


Broken In Your Eyes

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Best Friends, Boys Kissing, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Codependency, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Making Out, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Snogging, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark finds new love, Nicky has to face the fact that maybe he's not needed as much as he wants to be, that somebody else can put Mark's broken pieces back together, and that the way he feels about Mark is stopping him living his own life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mark did not come home happily or quietly.

Nicky heard him crashing into the house. He would have liked to have said that Mark woke him up, but the truth was that Nicky never slept well when Mark went out. He knew too well that eventually this would happen, that Mark would come home broken and angry, in desperate need of comfort, and Nicky wouldn't let him suffer that alone. Couldn't.

Mark was trying to make coffee. Nicky stood sleepily in the doorway for a second, watching him start a argument with the coffeepot, swear loudly, then throw a mug against the wall. Nicky flinched, the smashing porcelain spraying across the kitchen floor. Mark turned to look at the point of impact. Caught Nicky's gaze. Nicky stared back at him.

“Sorry.” Mark muttered, his shoes crunching over broken pieces of mug when he crossed the room and sank into a chair. There was coffee down the front of his new white shirt. He yanked it off and threw it across the room. “Burned my hand.”

Nicky kicked on pair of sandals he'd left near the back door and crossed the room, feeling coffee splash under his feet. There was plenty of ice in the freezer, so Nicky tipped it all into a tea towel and held it out to Mark, helping him put it on his burned hand. Mark hissed.

Good night?”

Mark’s glare snapped up, fixing on Nicky's bleary gaze, Nicky rubbed sleep awkwardly from his eyes, the concerned smile quirking his lips erased by a yawn, and Mark kicked contemptuously at the table, scowling.

“No.”

“Did you and Greg fight?” Nicky yawned. He reached out, adjusting the ice on Mark's hand.

“Fuck you _._ ” Mark spat. Then, abruptly, he closed his eyes, all the fight leaving him, legs curling to his chest and hugged tight as he dropped his face into his knees. Tears sprung to his eyes and he sobbed gently, just once. Nicky put a careful hand on his shoulder.

“Mark?”

Mark looked up, eyes blurred by tears as Nicky leaned forward and kissed his forehead, pulling him into a hug, not asking any questions. Mark pushed his face into Nicky’s shoulder, biting his lip.

“Sorry. I’m... I’m just tired, I...”

“It’s okay.” Nicky said awkwardly, feeling about as bewildered as Mark sounded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I told him I didn’t want to but he wouldn’t stop so... I left.” He shrugged. “That’s sort of it.”

Nicky drew in a sharp breath, fingers tightening in Mark’s hair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Mark whispered, knowing what Nicky was asking. “He... he didn’t... didn’t... well. I... I just feel crap.”

“Okay.” Nicky sighed, letting him go and standing in front, pushing Mark’s legs apart so he could shuffle up between them, hands resting on Mark’s naked shoulders. “Look at me, yeah?”

Mark looked up, hand trembling as he dragged the back across his lips. He smiled, and Nicky attempted one back, feeling it crumple just as quickly.

“It’s not your fault.”

Mark shook his head. “I know.”

“Do you?” Mark sniffed. “It isn’t your fault, Mark.” Nicky said, trying to sound soothing and confident all at the same time. “Yes, you’ve been together a few weeks now, but it didn’t mean he should have done it. He should’ve respected your decision.”

“I know.” Mark nodded, reaching up to brush his finger comfortingly down Nicky’s nose, starting at his eyebrow and trailing down until it slipped off the tip. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Nicky tugged his finger back and kissed the pad, smiling against it. “Do you want some more coffee?”

Mark was startled into a laugh and a nod. Nicky helped him to his feet, pushing him toward the bathroom.

“Go have a shower. It’ll be ready when you get out.”

Mark nodded, turning back to the door, the slump of his shoulders breaking Nicky's heart.

“Okay. Thanks.”

 

*

 

When Mark came back, the remnants of the mug had been swept up and coffee was steaming on the table, with half a packet of chocolate biscuits overlapping very precisely on a small plate. The couch cushions were methodically fluffed, and he collapsed gently against one. Curling against the arm, he rested the mug carefully on his lap. Nicky watched carefully, making sure Mark was okay.

“Your breath smells better anyway.” Nicky smiled, reaching over to ruffle his hair, Mark poking his tongue out in reply.

“It tastes better. I hate morning mouth.”

“I put your shirt in to soak. We might have caught the coffee in time. It looked like it was lifting out.”

“Thanks.” Mark murmured, putting his mug down and drawing his knees up tighter, resting his chin on top and peering at Nicky. “Um... sorry if I woke you.”

“That’s okay. It’s only Sunday morning. You know, busy time of the week. All the best cartoons. Should’ve set my alarm clock.” Mark rolled his eyes as Nicky grinned, moving back against the other arm to mirror Mark’s pose.

“We ended up seeing Spiderman 3 last night.”

“How was it?”

“Not as good as the first two. Bit shit.”

“Did he like it?”

“He said he did.” Mark smiled to himself. “I think he just said that though, to save face. Seeing as he picked it and all.”

“What did you want to see?”

“Casino Royale.” Mark shrugged. “He likes all that superhero stuff, and I know you'd want to see James Bond anyway, so I let him win.”

“So... I should see Spiderman then?”

“No.”

“Oh... fuck that, then.” Nicky smiled, making Mark laugh. He loved it when Mark laughed, that gently throaty chuckle that wrapped around him like sweet smoke.

He sighed and shut his eyes, exhausted from lack of sleep, listening to Mark's voice drift over him. The film. They’d gone in, Mark saying that Greg had to distract him if it got too crappy. And it had, very quickly. Mark would have been happy just to stay that way, gently kissing, with only the tiniest amount of heat tinging the edges, awkward hands groping indiscreetly above the neck.

“It didn’t stay that way?”

“No.” Mark shook his head. “God, why do I have to drive every man I meet away? I really liked him, honest. But I just can’t seem to get past this bloody stupid hang-up...”

“It’s not bloody stupid.” Nicky paused, opening his eyes to study Mark. “So that’s it then, is it?”

“Yeah.” Mark breathed quietly. “He told me to get the fuck out. So I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Y’know. I mean, I am a frigid little bitch, aren’t I?” He whispered the last bit, Nicky felt his heart drop.

“Is that what he said?” Nicky asked roughly, back straightening against the cushions like some kind of half-formed fighting stance. Mark shrugged.

“Yeah. But... but it’s true, though. Right? I mean, I can never hang onto anyone because at some point they realise. That I am. And that I’m not worth the time or eff...” He was cut off as Nicky’s hand landed firmly over his mouth, and Nicky felt lips stutter against the palm for a second before closing.

“Don’t say that.” Nicky hissed, glaring at him, even as his hand ran roughly through Mark’s hair. “You are worth all the time and effort in the world. Those bastards are just... bastards. And it isn’t your fault. You’re not a... a frigid little...” He forced the words out from between gritted teeth, eyebrows knitting together as he stared Mark in the eye. “They’re bastards. And not worth _your_ time or effort if you ask me. You’re way too good for them. For anyone. The person who does end up with you is going to be the luckiest man alive. The second best on the planet, after you, and believe me, you’ll deserve him.”

Mark’s eyes were wide, but Nicky could see the slightest pleased blush forming high on his cheeks and, as Nicky pulled his hand away and dropped it into his lap, the shocked frown curved up into an embarrassed smile. Mark’s eyes dropped to his coffee, and Nicky had to smile when he saw a tongue flick out to wet enviably full lips.

“You... you didn’t have to go all out.” Mark muttered, his face turning red. “Like, yeah thanks or whatever, but... you... you didn’t have to... erm... you know what I mean...”

“You’re welcome.” Nicky patted his shoulder, and the teeth dug into Mark’s lips couldn’t hide the smile or the shy sparkle in his eyes.

Mark nodded, sipping at his coffee again, eyes fixed on something in the distance while Nicky nibbled at a chocolate biscuit. A comfortable silence descended, and Nicky found himself staring blankly at the cartoons Mark had flicked on with a lazy remote. They both sat absently smirking at the latest adventures of the Roadrunner, the silence cushioning them like a cloud.


	2. Chapter 2

“Could you check if we need any milk? I’ve got to do up the shopping list.”

Mark nodded, turning away from the coke he’d just poured and searching quickly for the milk. He found it, gave it a quick sniff, and wrinkled his nose.

“We need milk.”

“Okay.” Nicky nodded, scribbling it down on the pad clutched in his hand. He tapped his chin with the eraser of the pencil, and glanced at the open cupboard across from him. “Chocolate biscuits.”

“Ooh, yes please.” Mark laughed, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Um... and I used the last of the icecream yesterday as well. And get some more of those crispy chicken things. The ones in the green box.”

“Okay.” Nicky added them to the list. “Am I going solo this time, or will you venture out into the great unknown with me?”

“You know I hate shopping.”

“Yeah, well, so do I.” Nicky scowled playfully. They had this argument every week. Sometimes Mark did actually come along, but Nicky didn’t really mind going by himself. It gave him a chance to think, to clear his head. This week he was up for a bit of company though, and definitely wouldn’t complain if Mark did decide to get off his arse. Mark grinned, and Nicky smiled back, hugging him.

“Please...?”

“Oh, alright. Do I have to get dressed?”

“Yes you do.” Nicky laughed, looking pointedly at Mark’s stained t-shirt, the tomato sauce against yellow definitely making for an interesting design. And the baggy sweatpants with nothing underneath were nothing short of a fashion statement. Mark shrugged back, picking at a crusty bit on the hem of his shirt.

“I’m throwing that thing out one day.”

“I know you are.” Mark smirked indulgently, and Nicky laughed over his shoulder at him as he went to find the jacket he’d left in the living room.

“Hurry up. We’re going in five.”

 

*

 

It took more than fifteen minutes for Mark to get ready. First he had to finish his coke, then change, and then Nicky had shoved him back into the bathroom and made him brush his hair. Mark had gone willingly, too used to Nicky to object, and come out a moment later, hair looking more rumpled than it had when he had first gone in. So, of course, Nicky had had to restyle it for him.

Pushing the trolley down the aisles forty minutes later, Nicky looked appreciatively at the job he had done. He’d always wanted to be a hairstylist, but that particular occupation had been very heavily looked down on by his father. He was destined for university, his father said. A proper job. This, of course was from a karaoke DJ, but Nicky wasn’t brave enough to argue the point. He’d studied law and business for three years, but then decided it wasn’t for him. The only good point was that he’d met Mark there, an education student with real passion and potential for his future career. Mark was starting his practical training next semester, a great cause for excitement amongst the two of them. Nicky supposed he was living vicariously through Mark, just a little, but then what did you expect from a bloke that swept hair in a failing salon?

“Boysenberry or chocolate?”

“Oh... can we have butterscotch this time?”

Mark nodded, reaching into the freezer and pulling out a tub. “How’s work?”

“Okay. Y’know. Swept up some hair yesterday.”

“Funny that.” Mark snorted, dropping the tub of icecream into the trolley, on top of some bananas. “You should ask if they’re running apprenticeships or something. Or if they know of some training things. You’d be good at that. You’ve always wanted to.”

“Yeah... I know.” Nicky shrugged, shivering at the cold blast of air that met him as he reached for the frozen peas. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Mark sighed, kicking at the wheel that was stubbornly protesting the corner they were turning. “Look, it’s not like you’re going back to uni, so why not? Cos of your dad? You’re twenty-four, Nix.”

“Yeah. Well.” Nicky sighed, leaning back against the cart and watching Mark stretch up for the flour on the high shelf. Mark was definitely handy when it came to going shopping. “Carolyn was saying something about the trade college doing night courses. It’s too expensive, though.”

“So? I’ll help pay your way. Checkout chicks might not make much, but they can make enough to send you to college. I’ll do extra shifts or something.” Mark turned around, and Nicky felt a lump rise in his throat at the smile there. “Nick, come on...” Nicky felt like he might cry. The hug Mark gave him was so sweet. “What’s wrong, mate?”

Nicky sniffed. “You’re just so fucking nice to me. It’s not fair that I have you.”

“Is that all? I’m the lucky one!” Mark squeezed him tighter and then stepped back, putting down the jar of salsa in his hand. Taking control of the trolley, he gave Nicky a quick smile, Nicky offering a tiny, heartfelt one in return. “Come on, you stupid fairy. Stop being so emotional.”

“I’m trying.” Nicky sniffled. “I fucking love you, you know.”

“I know. Ditto.” Mark squeezed his hand, and pushed the trolley forward, guiding it past the delicatessen and then back towards the counters. Nicky followed slowly, watching the younger boy with absolute awe. How did he get so lucky, to have this wonderful friend who would do anything for him? Nicky could just about marry him.

“Holy shit!” Nicky nearly ran into Mark’s back, shoving the stationary boy when he realised he wasn’t moving.

“Oi!”

“Sorry.” Mark shook his head, staring off into the distance at something. He started moving his head from side to side, trying to see past the people walking in front. Nicky put a hand on his shoulder.

“Mark?”

“Just... thought I saw someone I knew. Wait...” Mark sidestepped a few metres to the side and craned his neck, biting his lip. “Oh my god, it is!”

“Is who? Who are we looking at?”

“That’s fucking unbelievable!” Mark exclaimed, staring apparently at two men moving closer and closer to them. “Kian!”

“Mark?” The blonde one screwed up his face for a second, and then relaxed, blue eyes widening, his companion’s mouth dropping open in recognition. “You’re fucking kidding me!”

“Hey!” Mark stepped forward, and Nicky watched them from where he was loading the shopping onto the counter as the two of them hugged, the third one jumping in and giving Mark a very familiar punch on the arm. “What are you two doing here?”

“On holidays. Thought we’d come down for the weekend.” The blonde one laughed. “I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been, what... three years?”

“Yeah!” Mark laughed. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this!”

“How are you?” The small brunette said, a grin splitting his face. Nicky liked the grin immediately. It was honest, friendly and open, and Nicky felt his heart flutter a little. “This is so weird, but how are you?”

“I’m good. Really good. Finish uni soon so I’m just hanging around til then. Me and... oh yeah. This is Nicky, who I live with.”

Nicky raised his hand in greeting, the other one full with Mark’s precious crispy chicken things in the green box. They both waved at him.

“Nicky, this is Shane and Kian.” Mark indicated first the brunette, then the blonde. “We went to school together!”

“Hiya.” Nicky reached over to shake both their hands, once the last item was on the till and he was waiting for the girl to ring it all up. “I think I heard a drunken story about you two once.” It was a lie, but obviously a good one, as the two smaller boys looked at each other with a guilty laugh. Mark laughed too, and Nicky grinned at his wallet while he searched in it for the right money to give to the girl.

“So, this is crazy!” Mark exclaimed from behind him. “Oh shit, I’ve got to go. Shopping. Um... you in town long? We should go out.”

“Another few days.” Shane replied. “We need someone to show us the nightlife anyway. Kian’s crap at sniffing out bars.”

“Because you’re so much better.” Kian retorted. “We’re staying at a B&B. Can’t remember the name of it. Something to do with flowers. Daisies, maybe.”

“Well that’s no use.” Mark laughed. “Here, I’ll give you my number, right? Ring me before you leave. It’d be great to catch up again.”

“Definitely.” Kian passed over his phone for Mark to key the number in. “It’s been nice seeing you mate.” He added as Mark started after Nicky, who was trying not to tap his foot impatiently. This was obviously important to Mark, and he would wait, even if the butterscotch icecream was melting.

“You too!” Mark replied, waving. “Ring me, right?”

And then Kian and Shane were gone behind the automatic doors, Mark left bouncing along beside Nicky. Nicky laughed at him, passing over the chocolate bar he’d grabbed from the magazine rack at the till.

"I can’t believe it!”

“Neither can I!” Nicky mocked, laughing. Mark grinned at him, helping to lift the bags out of the trolley and into the tiny Ford they co-owned, his chocolate clenched resolutely between his teeth whilst his hands were in use. “Seemed like nice lads.”

“Yeah. They are. Wow!” Mark gasped, sliding into the drivers seat. “That’s still so weird though. We were like, inseparable in highschool, and then when I moved to Dublin we just, I don’t know, lost contact. It was really good to see them again.”

“You’ve never spoken of them.”

“I have too. Um...” Mark squinted at the road, thinking. “The mate that jumped off the balcony?” Nicky nodded, remembering that particular story. “Kian.”

“You’re kidding!” That was one of Nicky’s favourite stories, there had just never been a name associated with the incident before. Mark laughed, and then proceeded to reel off a whole barrage of stories that were, in fact, Kian or Shane stories. Nicky couldn’t believe he’d just met the two he’d heard so much about, and that he didn’t know their names from Joe Bloggs.

Once their shopping was away and Mark back in his hideously stained t-shirt, they sat together on the couch, watching a bad nature documentary about South African ants. Nicky sighed, resting his chin on his hand while Mark picked lint from his socks, and considered suggesting a boardgame, just to alleviate the boredom.

Mark yawned.

“So are you actually going to look into those night courses?”

Nicky shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s really expensive and I just don’t think I have enough for it right now. And I don’t want you paying.” He added as Mark went to speak. “I appreciate it, but I won’t take your money. I won’t.” Mark shook his head, choosing for the moment not to argue, but Nicky knew it’d be brought up again, later. His feet curling up against his body, Mark yawned again, head resting on the arm of the chair. “I hope those two do ring. We need to get out.”

“That’s true.” Mark sighed, rolling onto his back. “Its only one in the afternoon and we’re acting like coma patients. We need excitement.”

“We need a fella.” Nicky added, pursing his lips when Mark laughed and he realised what he’d said. “One each, obviously. I’m not into that.”

“Aw, I feel insulted.” Mark pouted, a smile tugging at his lips. “You saying you don’t want three-way sex with me?”

“Yep. I’ve seen you naked, and once was definitely enough.” An indignant gasp was accompanied by a slap. Nicky laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I might if the other chap was Brad Pitt, but it’s a definite ‘might’. I also might throw up on poor Brad if you were involved.”

“Ha bloody ha.” Mark retorted, changing the channel until some cartoons came on. “What about that time you kissed me at that party? Definitely weren’t throwing up then, were you? I was, but...”

“Thought you were Brad Pitt.” Nicky fired back. “As if I’d ever kiss you.”

“Ah you think I’m gorgeous.” Mark replied, a grin tugging his lips. “And you knew it was me. I distinctly heard my name. And it was all… moany.”

“I was thinking of Mark... Wahlberg.”

There was a beat, and Mark’s face screwed up confusion.

“You’d pick Marky Mark over me? That’s just wrong.”

Nicky chuckled, leaning back against the couch and smiling at his friend, who grinned back. It was just so comfortable and nice that Nicky had to let out a happy sigh.

“Thinking of my toned booty?”

“Shut up!” Nicky was startled into a laugh. He launched a cushion at Mark’s head and giggled when Mark caught him around the waist, dragging him off the couch and into a rumpled wreck on the floor. Moments later, he was being sat on, and looked up with a grin.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark grinned, wriggling, and making Nicky gasp with the weight. “Do you want some chockie bikkies?”

“Love some.” Nicky stretched when Mark’s weight lifted off him, crawling back onto the couch and watching Mark bustle about the kitchen. “So Shane. Nice lad.”

“Yeah.” Mark reappeared with a biscuits, one between his teeth. “Fancy him?”

“Course not.” Nicky snorted awkwardly, a traitorous blush climbing to his face “Haven’t even been introduced properly.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you.” Mark laughed, sitting back down on the couch. “You like him, right?”

“He was alright.” The admission was muffled, and he caught the sparkle of Mark’s eyes. “Nice eyes.”

“Uh huh.” Mark smiled, and Nicky considered being embarrassed before catching the affectionate dimple in the corner of his mouth. He grinned bashfully, leaning into Mark’s shoulder.

”Yeah. He was... nice.”

“Mmm...” Mark’s hum of agreement was infused with laughter, making Nicky chuckle back. He looked up, seeing Mark give a small nod, and then shifted closer, burying his head in Mark’s chest.

“How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“No.” Nicky shook his head, sighing. “I don’t mean that. I mean Greg. How are you?”

Mark shrugged, his body rolling beneath Nicky’s. They’d barely spoken of this, Mark choosing to be distant over the last few days, mostly staying in his room or sitting on the couch watching telly with a cup of tea. Nicky was used to it, and knew he needed time to think, so he’d stayed clear. There had been no crying, no sulking, and no aggression since the night Mark had come home, but there had been no laughter either, and responses to questions and conversation had been limited. It was just Mark’s way. Today, though, Mark had been all smiles, and Nicky knew it was his cue to start asking questions.

“I’m okay. Y’know. No use crying over spilt milk.”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “But you can over a break-up. It’s not quite the same.”

Mark snorted, and ran a hand through Nicky’s hair. Both boys enjoyed the closeness. It was completely non-sexual, just an expression of comfort and friendship. And, while it was a little girly, it didn’t particularly matter. The world wasn’t watching, this was their house, and... well... they were gay. Fuck society.

“I just miss it.” He said quietly. “Not him, exactly, because... he wasn’t the best guy in the world. He was alright, but not exactly my future or anything. But still. I just miss being in a relationship and things going smoothly. It hasn’t in ages. I just wish I could get over myself, basically.”

“After what happened to you? They should be ashamed of themselves.” Nicky growled, catching himself when he felt his cheeks turn red with anger. He purposefully relaxed, pressing his cheek to Mark’s arm. “I’m sorry. I won’t talk about it.”

There was a moment’s awkward silence, the air heavily charged, and Nicky felt Mark’s tenseness, his own body going rigid within the embrace. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, not sure what was going to happen next. Mark’s previous reactions on the topic hadn’t been encouraging. “It’s okay.” Mark mumbled finally, his voice small. “Maybe I should. It’s been awhile...” Nicky looked up, hopeful. Mark shook his head. “But not yet. I need to think.”

“That’s okay.” Nicky smiled gently, trying to keep his exterior encouraging, although inside he was a trembling bundle of nerves. “You don’t have to.”

“I think maybe I need to talk, y’know?” Mark said softly, hand once again stroking through Nicky’s hair as they relaxed into each other. “It’s not helping, the way I’ve been dealing with it. And you’re my best mate so.” He shrugged. “We’ll talk another time. I promise.”

“Okay.” The fine hairs on Mark’s arm were upright, Nicky realised as he trailed his fingers along them, feeling goosebumps break out over his friend’s body. “It’s up to you.”

Mark looked like he was about to say something when the phone rang, and Nicky jerked upright, reaching for it with a pounding heart.

“Hello?”

“Hi... erm... is Mark there?”

“Just a second.” Nicky passed it over, the weak smile Mark gave him forcing a return grin. “For you.”

“Thanks.” Mark nodded, lifting it to his air. “Shane! Hey, yeah! Uh... Friday?” Mark listened for awhile, and Nicky found himself shifting closer until his fingers were once again stroking along Mark’s arm, eyes fixated on the movement of dark hairs beneath his fingers. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Yes. No. Yeah, across from the big HMV, there’s a pub... it’s downstairs. No, no... across from it.” Mark sighed heavily. “Look do you know where the HMV is yet? Thought you might. We’ll meet you there at... Nicky gets off work at seven, so nine? Yeah, Nicky needs dress-up time too. Drives me mad as well, don’t know how you cope with Kian. Okay. See you mate. Bye.”

Nicky thought about being indignant at the jibe, but decided against it. “You’re inviting me?”

“Course, you daft twit.” Mark replied placidly. “What do you expect? Friday at nine at the HMV.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Nicky grinned, bouncing on the sofa and grinning at Mark. “Shane has a nice voice. What’s he like?”

“He’s... Shane. I don’t know.” Mark laughed. “Stop it, you silly git. You’ll put an eye out.”

“Okay.” Nicky stopped bouncing immediately. He wasn’t actually excited about Shane specifically, just the idea of him. It had been ages since he’d even flirted with someone apart from Mark, and the idea of some fun had him ready to go. And Shane seemed a nice enough prospect. Dark hair, dark eyes, hairy chest by the looks of him. Nice smile, not big but a very nicely filled out shirt and trousers... yeah, Nicky could definitely entertain that!

“You’ve always gone for the brunettes.” Mark observed.

“Except for you.” Mark shrugged mildly. “But you don’t count.”

“I feel so abandoned.” Mark replied sarcastically, earning himself a jab in the ribs from Nicky’s elbow. Nicky had to grin at the barely contained yelp, and gave Mark a quick, consolatory hug. The hug back was short, but equally heartfelt, and when Nicky dragged himself from the couch, he felt as though he was leaving something important behind. He turned to smile at his friend.

“You’re a deutz.”

Mark grinned back, stuffing a chocolate biscuit in his mouth and turning back to the TV.


	3. Chapter 3

“Fucking hell, Mark. It’s freezing!”

Nicky was bouncing on his feet, body covered in goosebumps. His fingers were frozen, his legs were frozen, his cheeks were frozen, his nose was frozen, and his nipples could just about drill through concrete. He felt like an ice-cube, and the wind was not helping in the slightest.

“So wear more next time!” Mark’s smirk was pink in the glow of the HMV sign, and Nicky looked down at himself, scowling.

“No. I’ll look like a muffin.”

“Well at least do your buttons up properly.” Nicky slapped away the hands reaching for him and hugged himself, curling his upper half into a smaller ball.

“I can’t feel my nose.” He muttered spitefully, finally giving into complaints after a few moments silence. Kian and Shane were late, it was ten past, and the wind was murder. Nicky wanted to be inside somewhere, preferably roasting over the fire.

“Aw, poor baby.” Mark chuckled, reaching up to rub Nicky’s nose with one toasty warm hand. Nicky pushed into it, shivering. “Jesus, you are cold.” Mark exclaimed, pulling back with a jerk. Nicky pouted, trying to look worthy of pity. “Oh god, just come here.”

Warm in Mark’s hug, Nicky sighed, tugging the big woolly coat Mark wore around his shoulders and snuggling into the bigger lad. The height gave Mark wind resistance, Nicky would give him that, and he found himself nearly purring when Mark tugged him closer and wrapped one arm behind Nicky’s head, blocking the chill that swept through his hair.

“Warmer?”

Nicky nodded into the embrace, still shivering slightly, and kissed Mark’s cheek with icy lips. “Thankyou.”

“You’re welcome.” Mark pecked his forehead, lips like heated cushions. Nicky had to purr again. “Hey lads.”

Looking up, Nicky was met with hazel eyes that made his heart instantly flutter, and he smiled, pulling out of Mark’s embrace and back into the biting cold.

“Hey.” Shane grinned, reaching out to hug Mark quickly, Kian following. Nicky smiled, shaking both their hands. “How are you lads?”

“We’re good, thanks. Nice to meet you both. Again.” Nicky began to bounce on his feet again. “Can we go inside? My balls are getting frostbite.”

”Thanks for that.” Mark rolled his eyes, reaching out to ruffle Nicky’s hair and getting a solid elbow in the stomach. “Ow, you little...”

“You asked for it.” Nicky grumbled, catching the tolerant smirk Mark directed at the ground. That little ‘why me?’ head-shake he had every now and then. It made Nicky think that maybe he should be a little bit nicer to him, but that never lasted long. It wasn’t like Mark was Mother Teresa. And it was all in good fun.

Sitting in the pub a few minutes later, Nicky took a long gulp of his Guinness, coughing slightly when the bubbles went up his nose. Shane laughed softly, and Nicky grinned back, wiping foam from his upper lip with a swipe of his sleeve. He was finally warm again, the pizza oven in the corner giving the room a toasty glow that made his fingertips come out of their hibernating state almost immediately. It was homely, one of Mark and Nicky’s favourites when they weren’t in the mood to pick up. You could talk, and have a laugh and some friendly drinks with your mates. And they made good chips.

“So.” Nicky put his drink down, leaning his chin on one palm. “Do I get to hear any embarrassing Mark stories yet?” The rapid exchange between the three other boys finally stopped, and Nicky looked up hopefully, finally finding a way into the conversation.

Shane laughed, and then Kian laughed, the conspiratorial glance that charged the air between them eliciting a groan from Mark.

“Say nothing.”

“No. Do.” Nicky stuck his tongue out at Mark when the other two laughed and Kian leaned forward.

“Well, there was the tracksuit incident.”

Mark muttered something that sounded like ‘kill me now’ and attempted to slide under the table.

Nicky charged on regardless. “Do tell.”

“Well.” Kian leaned forward further, smirking sideways at Mark. For the first time, Nicky was struck by the translucent blue of the smaller boy’s eyes, a shining summer-sky, clear-sea-water blue that Nicky wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. Shane snickered, and Kian continued.

“Well.” Kian repeated. “It was when we were doing Grease – we did it as a show for the town – and Mark was playing Teen Angel.” Shane laughed, and nudged a very scared looking Mark. “Well, he had this brand new lovely tracksuit. Red, it was, and he was _so_ proud of it, weren’t you ickle Marky?” Mark scowled, and Nicky felt lines form between his eyebrows. He couldn’t imagine Mark ever being proud of an item of clothing, especially a tracksuit. Mark loved his tracksuits, that went without saying, but he didn’t exactly pride himself on them. It didn’t sound like the Mark he knew at all.

“Anyway.” Shane took over, and Nicky smiled at the sweetly pure voice. “He comes into rehearsals, not mentioning it, but making sure we can all see the brand name on it. Can’t remember what it was now. Nike, or Adidas or something. But he’s so proud. So Kian and me and some of the lads snuck out back and turned the showers on. And. Well.” Kian was chortling across from them now, his face turning red from a memory Nicky couldn’t quite see. “We pushed him in.”

“I nearly fucking killed them.” Mark snarled playfully, the other two having broken up into giggles now, while Nicky was still struggling to put together the image of Mark in a brand name tracksuit. “Bastards.”

“Oh it was brilliant!” Kian laughed, forcing another mouthful of lager down around the giggles. “You should have seen his face!”

Nicky pursed his lips, and was still trying to think when the chips arrived. There was too much salt on them, but he didn’t really mind that much, busy as he was listening to the three Sligo lads chatter amongst themselves. He found out that Mark had had a book thrown at him by a teacher for singing in class, and that his first girlfriend had been called Susan. He hadn’t even realised Mark had had a girlfriend, but now she even had a name. It felt like there was a whirlwind in his head, rocketing out bits of random information, all of which were hitting him straight in the chest. He’d known Mark for three years, and they were closer than anyone Nicky knew, yet he didn’t know the fundamentals of Mark’s life. How much had he missed out on? And how much wasn’t Mark telling him?

“So.” Shane was nibbling on a piece of garlic bread, the cheese thick and stringy, twirling around his tongue. Nicky had been watching it avidly, with what attention he had left. “How long have you two been together then?”

“Huh?” Nicky was immediately confused. Who was Shane talking about? Mark spluttered with laughter, and Nicky stared at him, feeling as though he was missing something.

“Oh god, we’re not!” Mark laughed, clutching his stomach. And, once Nicky realised what was going on, he had to join him, struck immediately by the complete absurdity of it. He and Mark? Hell! “No! Fuck no!”

“Oh.” A soft blush was spreading over Shane’s cheeks now, but Nicky could hardly see it over the tears of laughter in his eyes. “Sorry. Just assumed. You said you were living together.”

“Yeah. We are. But. No.” Nicky forced out, chest hurting. “Jesus, I couldn’t cope with it. Do you know what he’s like in the mornings?”

“And fashion freak here would drive me round the bend!” Mark sniggered. “No way! We’re just mates.”

Nicky could have sworn he saw Kian brighten at that, and decided to file that information away for further reflection. A glance was met with tears in Mark’s eyes, and he was set off again, giggling into his napkin.

“So where did you meet then?” Kian asked finally, once the laughter had died down. Mark smiled.

“We were on the same course. Just this elective one. Computers, cos I thought it’d be helpful for teaching and stuff, cos it showed how to make websites and was like... analytic. With media and that, if y’know what I mean.”

“I was mostly just killing time.” Nicky shrugged. “Didn’t have a clue about computers and thought I might as well learn. But I came in late, and he was the only other one not paired up for the assignment. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

“I was the reject.” Mark sighed, and then suddenly brightened. “But anyway. Yeah. We moved in together last year. I was broke, he was broke... so that’s what we did. It’s not much, but it’s got a bed… two beds… and plumbing. That’s the main thing.”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded, affection warming him. Despite Nicky’s initial reservations about having a housemate, Mark had been a pleasure to share with. He wasn’t unbearably messy, he put in for the bills on time, he grudgingly did his share of the housework, and most of all, he was brilliant company. Nicky couldn’t remember ever laughing more than the time spent with him, plus he was great for a hug and a talk. Mark was... perfect.

He smiled, reaching over to squeeze Mark’s hand, and then blushed when he saw Kian watching. Staring back at his chips, he felt a friendly pat land on his shoulder, burning through his t-shirt.

“Nicky! Earth to Nicky!”

“Sorry, what?” Nicky blinked, realising he’d been staring into his drink for quite awhile without speaking. Mark laughed.

“Take a photo of the three of us?” Mark asked, as Shane fiddled with his phone before handing it over to Nicky. Nicky nodded, holding it up as the three of them huddled together. Mark grinned broadly, Shane and Kian’s heads rested on either one of his shoulders as they made obscene gestures at the camera.

Nicky laughed, taking the photo. The phone clicked.

“Give me a look.” Shane demanded, reaching out and grabbing the phone. “Ooh nice one!” Mark looked over too, but Shane was already pressing buttons, turning the camera off so he could put it away.

“Aw… who’s the kid?” Mark asked suddenly, snatching the phone, and Nicky got a momentary glimpse of a photo of a grinning Shane, a toddler held in his arms. “Your brother’s?”

Shane smiled, not taking the phone back. “Nope. Mine.”

Mark’s eyes widened, and he stared at Shane. “What? Seriously?” Shane nodded, a grin spreading over his face. He looked into his beer.

“Ah yeah, Shaney here’s a proud daddy.” Kian clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Nicole. Such a cutie.”

“I thought you were still single?” Mark still looked shocked, and Nicky sat up straighter to watch the interaction. He’d been under the impression Shane was gay. Well, there went his crush. Oh well.

“I am.” Shane shrugged. “You remember Kian’s cousin, Gillian?”

“Erm…” Mark bit his lip, his eyes almost crossing as he thought. “The blonde one? In your year at school. She wore pink a lot.”

“That’s the one.” Shane shrugged. “Got drunk one night, she got drunk and… Nicole happened. She was going to put her up for adoption. Too young for a kid, she said, but I took one look at her and…” He smiled self-consciously. “Daddy’s little girl, that one. My mam’s taking care of her this weekend.”

“Wow, I never would have guessed. Spose that’s the problem with you bisexuals. Too bloody greedy and that’s where it gets you.” Mark fingered the screen of the phone, a tender little smile spreading over his mouth. “She looks a little darling, though.”

“She is. I miss her like you wouldn’t believe, but mam insisted I come. She said I needed a few days off. I think she just wanted to play grandma for a bit, personally.”

“Wow.” Mark sighed. “Guess you’ve grown up faster than the lot of us, eh?”

“Ah, it’ll happen to you. Not kids I mean. Just one day you’ll look around and realise you’re a grown up. It’s fucking scary, I tell you what.”

Mark nodded seriously, handing the phone back.

“God help us all, then. It’ll be Nicky growing up next, and then where will be?”

 

*

 

“What do you want?” Nicky yelled into Kian’s cupped ear, only just hearing the last vibrations of a request for a bourbon and coke. He nodded, mouthing ‘the usual?’ at Mark. There was a nod back, and Nicky headed for the bar, leaning over to attract the attention of the girl at the counter.

They’d moved to a club after dinner. A blue haze of strobe lights spasmed against his eyelids, making him wince. Sweat, sex, and alcohol heaved in the air, and Nicky coughed a little when the scent of cigarette smoke invaded his nostrils. He grinned at the girl, winking back when she slid the drinks onto the bar, and attempted to pick up all four, carefully watching the liquid slosh closer to the rims of the glasses. He bit his lip, struggling to watch the floor at the same time.

“Do you need a hand?”

Nicky almost dropped the drinks when Shane yelled in his ear, apparently back from his trip to the gents. Turning, he grinned, allowing Shane to slide his and Kian’s drinks out of Nicky’s hands. Shane smiled, and Nicky’s heart did a little fluttery jump

He nodded his thanks, beginning to turn back towards their table, but stopped suddenly, feeling Shane almost plough into his back.

“Move, you eejit!” Shane laughed. But Nicky stood still, feet rooted to the ground. He blinked, trying to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. The lights could sometimes mess with your vision.

He wasn’t sure strobe lights had ever made him hallucinate Mark’s tongue in someone’s mouth, though.

Kian’s mouth, in fact, and it definitely wasn’t the strobe lights. As he watched, Kian’s hand clenched in the short curls at Mark’s neck, drawing him closer into the kiss. Shane gasped beside him. Nicky just gaped.

It looked like a nice kiss, too. One of those friendly, intimate, affectionate kisses that Nicky couldn’t remember experiencing... ever. It was homely, and sweet, and so full of love that Nicky had to tighten his grip on the drinks to keep from dropping them. Something hot and thick swirled in his stomach, and he swallowed, watching the two of them draw apart slowly, every tiny particle of clinging flesh suddenly visibly, their mouths parting torturously, curved into small smiles.

Mark blushed, it was adorable, and Nicky felt his face heat too. He swallowed again. Mark looked away, dimples appearing in his cheeks when Kian laughed abashedly, reaching out to take his hand. Mark looked up again, laughing that adoring laugh he only ever spared for Nicky. Kian’s lips moved, Nicky able to read them.

“I missed you.”

Mark nodded, tracing Kian’s jaw with the tip of his finger.

“Me too.”

Nicky coughed to clear his throat, and glanced down at the drinks. With a purposeful skip, he strode forward, dumping the glasses down on the table.

“What’d I miss?”

Mark blushed red, making Nicky want to reach out and slap him. And slap Kian. For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that kiss had made his blood boil, and turned Kian into some kind of poisonous snake that he couldn’t bear to be near another second. He wanted to drag Mark away, lock him safely in his room where no one could ever get to him.

“Just me and Kian were... were reminiscing.”

Oh, was that what they were calling it these days?

“Cool.” Nicky muttered around his straw, looking up as Shane sat down across from them, a grin on his face.

“What flavour are Kian’s tonsils then, Marky?”

Nicky groaned inwardly, not looking up to watch Mark attempt to slide under the table. Wanting to just... argh... all of them.

Kian chuckled to himself, his cheeks pink. “Erm... yeah.” He mumbled, and because Nicky was determinedly looking downwards, he got to see Mark reach under the table and grab Kian’s hand. Squeezing it like he never wanted to let it go.

Something inside Nicky twisted. Hard.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ki and Shane are going home today.”

“Yeah. I know.” Nicky muttered, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. The couple downstairs were really giving each other hell today, just like every other day. Nicky wondered why they didn’t just get out of each others lives. It wasn’t like they had kids or anything. Something smashed in the kitchen. Mark yelped.

“Shit!”

“You alright?” Nicky sat up, his legs already half off the couch.

“Yeah. Dropped a glass. It’s broken.”

With a sigh, Nicky relaxed, then heaved himself up, pottering idly into the kitchen and watching Mark struggle to open a garbage bag.

“Didn’t cut yourself, did you?”

“No don’t think so.” Mark looked around at the remains of the exploded glass and bit his lip. “You might want to put some shoes on. I don’t know how far it went.”

Nicky nodded, slipping on a pair of sandals he’d left in the corner the other night, before returning to the kitchen with the dustpan from the hall closet and bending down to sweep some of it up. Mark held the garbage bag open.

“Sorry. I was just thinking and it... like... slipped.”

“What were you thinking about to drop a glass?”

“Nothing.” Mark said shortly. “Just thinking.”

Nicky stood up with a groan, looking at the mess. The dustpan had done nothing. This was obviously a vacuum job, and theirs was on its last legs. Mark pursed his lips.

“Maybe if we clean up as much as we can, we can do the last bits with the vacuum.” He said hopefully, making Nicky smile. They both shrugged at each other, before crouching again and resuming the sweeping and bagging in silence, Mark’s soft breathing a hypnotic comfort to Nicky. It was familiar, lovely, and he reached out to touch his friend’s cheek, feeling the stab of stubble under his palm.

Mark smiled a little confused smile, twisting his neck to kiss the palm lightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Nicky shrugged, looking immediately back at the floor. “Just... yeah.”

“Yeah.” Mark echoed, holding the bag open again for Nicky to empty the dust pan, the broken shards making little clattering noises as they rained down onto the others. Mark shrugged, and descended into a silence that made Nicky feel awkward and slightly sick. Finally, Mark sniffed, and then took in a deep breath. “He kept yelling at me.” It all came out in a rush.

“Who... Oh.” Nicky bit his lip when he realised what Mark was talking about. He closed his eyes on a gusty sigh, trying to release all the tension that had suddenly tightened his body. There was a thick, liquid lump in his throat when he swallowed, and he felt it clog the path to his lungs. He looked up at Mark’s downcast face.

“I don’t yell, do I?”

“No.” Mark squinted at the bag, holding it out for Nicky to tip more in. “No I was just thinking. The pair downstairs. I dunno.”

“Uh huh.” Nicky tried to make his voice flippant, not wanting to pressure the younger boy when he was finally opening up. “That why you dropped the glass?”

“Kind of.” Mark scratched his forehead, still looking just short of Nicky’s eyes. “I don’t know. I have... flashbacks. Sometimes.”

“Really?”

Mark nodded, tying up the bag and dropping it in the bin. “I’ll go get the vacuum.”

With that, he left the room, and when he came back, the conversation was over as if it had never happened. The only difference was the cloudiness in Mark’s eyes, which was only seen for a split second. He wouldn’t make eye contact after that.

 

*

 

It was cold on the platform, an icy wind ruffling hair and bruising cheeks. Nicky jogged on the spot while Mark said goodbye.

“So... I’ll see you. You’ll come visit again, right?”

“Course we will. I will. Anyway.” Kian took a deep breath, as if trying to reorder his jumbled sentence. “But you’ll call me? It won’t be another three years?”

“Course not.” They hugged tightly, Shane bouncing on the soles of his feet nearby. Nicky smiled at him, the younger boy rolling his eyes at the other two in return. Nicky laughed.

“Bloody hell.”

“Yeah.” Shane giggled, moving closer and shaking Nicky’s hand in a quick goodbye. His hand was nice and warm, and Nicky found himself holding on for longer than was strictly necessary, enjoying the heat. A few meters away, Mark ducked his head for a kiss. Nicky flinched without meaning to. Shane smiled, moving closer still, whispering.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Nicky flinched again, before laughing, stunned.

“Who, Mark? No. Course not.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Shane’s smile was unreadable. “Sure.” He stepped away, turning back to give Mark a quick hug before Nicky could say anything. Kian reached out a hand, shaking Nicky’s.

“Good meeting you. Might see you again?”

“Yeah. Hopefully.” Nicky chuckled, letting go of Kian’s cold hand and stepping away, leaning into Mark’s coat. Then they were on the train and off, Mark left staring wistfully at the train as it rounded the corner in a trail of dust, Kian’s face still pressed to the window. “You alright?”

“Yep.”

“Uh huh.” Nicky replied disbelievingly, taking his hand and leading him back to the carpark. Mark followed slowly, his breath cutting a thick swathe of mist through the air. Nicky opened the door for him, snapping his fingers when he saw Mark was staring off into the distance. “Oi! Get in the car!”

Mark shook his head, face clearing. “Sorry.”

“S’alright.” Nicky rolled, slamming the door and then going around the other side. Mark didn’t seem in the mood for conversation, so Nicky silently pulled the car out onto the main road, tapping his fingers along to the radio.

A quick glance proved that Mark was still staring blankly out the window, and Nicky sighed to himself. The younger lad had been nothing short of melancholy since that morning, and Nicky had to admit that it was getting pathetic. He and Kian had snogged at the pub a few times, and then again in the taxi, and now it was like Mark had found the fucking love of his life. They were old friends, Nicky got that, and they had probably shared more than Nicky and Mark could in a lifetime. They had a history that Nicky could never be part of or understand, had grown up together. They were best friends.

No, that wasn’t true. _Nicky_ was Mark’s best friend. Wasn’t he?

He wasn’t jealous at all.

Nicky groaned, clenching his hands tighter on the steering wheel. Beside him, Mark shifted.

“You alright?”

“What are you?”

“Er... human? Male? Gay? …Gemini? What are you on about?” Mark sounded baffled. Nicky didn’t know how he looked, he was too busy watching the road.

“You and Kian. What are you?”

“I... I don’t know.” Mark’s sounded like he was screwing his face up. “Friends. I guess.”

“I’m your friend. You’ve never kissed me like that.”

Mark laughed. “Well there was that time at that party...” Nicky shook his head, glaring at the road, and then felt a hand land on his shoulder. “We’re something. I just don’t know what. I like him, y’know? Always have.”

“Always have?” Nicky pulled into their garage and tugged the keys out of the ignition.

“Yeah... well. Y’know. He’s my best mate. Of course I like him.”

A flush of something red, hot and sharp went straight through Nicky’s body like a poker. He blinked, feeling it pierce behind his eyes. His stomach twisted in on itself, and his fingers tingled with heat.

“He’s your best mate.” He stated, trying not to let the absolute hatred infect his voice.

“Of c...” Mark trailed off when Nicky spun round, storming for the door. “Nicky?” The door slammed, Mark on the other side, and Nicky ran upstairs to their floor, slamming their apartment door behind himself. Then, when he heard Mark’s feet on the stairs, it was to his room. He locked the door behind him.

“Nicky!” Mark yelled, the door leaping on its hinges as he pressed into it. Nicky glared at the jerking doorknob, and then buried his burning face back into the pillow, clamping it around his ears. “Nix! Open the fucking door! What’s wrong?”

“Fuck off!” Nicky shrieked back, tears already filling his eyes. “Fuck! OFF!”

Mark’s voice disappeared for a moment, and then it was back, soft and precious. “Nick, I don’t know what I’ve done. Please just open the door and we’ll have a chat. I’m sorry. For whatever I did.”

“Why don’t you just fuck off back to Kian!” Nicky yelled back. “As if you care about me. He’s your best mate after all!”

Mark sighed, his voice filled with sudden realisation that Nicky wanted to hate him for. But the sad thing was, he couldn’t. Mark was just... loveable. He was sweet and kind and funny and gorgeous and... fucking hell. Fucking fucking hell.

“You’re my best mate.” Mark said softly. Nicky heard his weight lean against the door and slide down. “Look, I missed him, and maybe I do fancy him. Maybe I’d like to try out something more, but nothing’s definite yet. But I love you to bits too. I hadn’t seen him for awhile and I got excited. But you’re always there in my fucking face and I love you. Okay?"

Sniffling, Nicky climbed off the bed and towards the door, twisting the knob and smiling when Mark fell into the room. Nicky crouched down over him.

“Hi.”

“Erm... Hi.” Mark smiled, clambering to his feet and wrapping Nicky in big, warm, comforting hug. “You’re such a competitive bugger. Couldn’t accept it if you were both the best could you?”

Nicky shook his head, wiping his nose on Mark’s sleeve. “I’m sorry. I just... I need you. And Kian was new and I thought you might leave me so... I... I got scared. You have all this history that I can’t share, and I felt like...” He trailed off, shrugging. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Mark guided them both back towards the bed, Nicky still wrapped in a hug. Feeling his knees hit the mattress, Nicky had to let go, and shuffled into the middle while Mark sat down next to him, reaching out a hand to touch Nicky’s hair. “So you got scared? Of what?”

Nicky sniffled again. “I don’t know exactly. You leaving me, maybe. You’re... like the only solid thing I’ve got. I don’t know what I’d do without you. But it’s your life, y’know? I don’t mean to...” He trailed off, shrugging down at his hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Uh huh.” Mark smiled a friendly little smirk that made Nicky laugh. Moments later, he was wrapped in a hug, and shifted closer again when hands pressed into his back. “I’m not about to leave you, you daft fairy. Honest.”

Nicky nodded, his fears ebbing away for the moment. Mark didn’t lie, not about things like this. But he couldn’t help but think that one day, things were going to change. Not on purpose, they just would. Mark would find someone, and go away. He’d go back home with Kian, or move in with some guy. He’d have sex with him, and then it would be over. Nicky would lose him forever.

“I’m gonna lose you.” He murmured, more to himself, and felt the embrace tighten. “One day. I am. You’ll go away and it’ll be over.”

“Where would I go?”

“Away. With Kian, or with someone... I dunno. But you will. You’ll find someone that you love, more than me.”

“I don’t love anyone more than you.”

“But you will.” Nicky argued. “Same as you loved Kian the most before you were with me. You’ll move on.”

The silence that followed was claustrophobic, wrapping around Nicky’s heart and lungs and squeezing. And in the same moment, Mark’s grip loosened.

“Nix...”

“Mark...” Nicky echoed, looking up into big blue eyes that brimmed with hurt. He kissed the lids gently. “Look... I love you alright? And I’m glad we got to be friends, even if it’s not going to last forever, so... just... can we not talk about it? Can we just be happy until then?”

Mark nodded slowly, dropping a soft kiss on his lips. Nicky kissed him back, feeling his own tears slipping between their mouths when a gentle tongue slid out and caressed his mouth, delving carefully into his. It was soft and delicious and tender, and moments later Nicky found himself meeting it cautiously, testing it against his, hearing Mark make a low noise in his throat.

Pulling back, they stared at each other, Nicky watching surprised eyes widen minutely. He blinked back, unable to move.

“Ehm... sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Nicky replied. Locked by Mark’s eyes, he reached out to trail a finger down Mark’s unflinching face, feeling him turn just slightly into the touch. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Me either.” Mark breathed, eyes finally flickering shut. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Nicky giggled hoarsely, Mark’s taste still burning at his lips. He licked them. “Yeah. Shit.”

“Shit.” Mark repeated, and before Nicky knew it, they were kissing again, hot breath flooding his mouth and making his whole body thrum with previously undiscovered heat. Mark’s tongue stroked his, twisting around Nicky’s, and making them both shudder slowly. It wasn’t passionate, not lustful. It was just... love. Perfect. Nicky shut his eyes, clenching a hand in the soft curls at Mark’s neck and pulling him closer.

“Oh...” He felt vacant when they pulled apart again, and had to move closer, even if they weren’t still kissing. Mark sighed, wrapping his arms around him.

”I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Nicky whispered, leaning his head against Mark’s shoulder and feeling the quick pulse. Mark stroked him carefully, and Nicky looked up, remembering something.

“You know Shane asked if I was in love with you?”

Mark laughed. “What did you say?”

“No. Of course not.”

Gentle hands petted his hips, stroking circles into the flesh there. Nicky felt himself shudder.

“Are you?”

“I don’t think so.” Nicky replied, honestly. “I love you. You’re the most special thing in the world to me. But I don’t... I don’t love you like fire and wind and all that heart-beating-faster-ever-time-you’re near, walking on clouds lot. You’re comfortable and lovely and sweet and funny and I love spending time with you.”

Mark nodded. “Same here.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Mark laughed to himself. “Look, do you want to order a pizza? It’s late and I can’t be bothered to cook. We could watch a film?”

Nicky nodded, reaching for the phone and snuggling back into Mark’s embrace while he hit the speed dial for the pizza place. It was warm and safe here; friendly, comfortable. Perfect. Nicky never wanted anyone else to have this, except for Mark. He wanted Mark to have everything.


	5. Chapter 5

Nicky stared at the ceiling, listening to Mark in the room next to him. He was crying again, in his sleep Nicky guessed, but he’d never really been able to check. The rare times he had the reception hadn’t been welcoming, so he’d never tried again. Mark was intensely private, didn’t like talking about anything personal. He was a closed book, and it was rare to see him let his defences down. Even to Nicky, who had seen it probably more than anyone except Mark’s mam. He heard a whimper, and pressed his face into the pillow, trying to force back the tears.

Springs squeaked and rolled next door, and Nicky shut his eyes, feigning sleep when Mark crept slowly towards his door, probably headed for the bathroom. He tried to even out his breathing, and was concentrating so hard he didn’t even notice his door opening at first.

“Nicky?” Mark whispered, and Nicky looked up, dropping all pretence of sleep at the sight of Mark stood in the doorway, the hall light bathing his hair with tiny glimmers of bronze. Nicky yawned, sitting up.

“Marky?”

Mark wiped his nose on his sleeve, shadows bouncing off his face and embedding themselves in the deep rings beneath his eyes. He swallowed.

“Uh... can I come in?”

Nicky nodded, watching Mark pad slowly across the floor like a five year old boy wanting to sleep in mammy and daddy’s bed. The blankets lifted and he climbed in, his body heat making Nicky shiver against the cold sheets. Mark smiled warily, his face damp.

“Sorry. Do you mind?”

“Course not.” Nicky mumbled, lying back down and tugging the blankets to his neck. “What’s up?”

“Just didn’t feel like sleeping by myself.” Nicky snuck one hand out from under the blanket and stroked the younger boy’s hair carefully, watching dark lashes shut over sad blue eyes.

”Did you have a nightmare?”

Drawing in a ragged breath, Mark nodded, pressing his face into the pillow.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mark shook his head into the pillow.

“Okay.” Nicky whispered, burying his face in Mark’s chest and rubbing his cheek into the soft flannel of his pyjamas. Mark was breathing slow and even against him, but there was something forced about it, and his heart was beating so fast. Feeling tears prick his eyes, Nicky wrapped an arm around Mark’s waist, tugging him closer and stroking his back, trying to soothe himself just as much.

“Did you manage to get onto Kian today?”

Mark nodded, the point of his chin bumping Nicky’s hair. “Yeah. Not for long though, cos he was on the way to his mam’s. He got back home okay. So that’s good.”

Nicky nodded, hearing the affection in Mark’s voice and assuming the short-lived conversation had been a good one. The two has been close as brothers before Mark had moved away, as Nicky had come to discover more and more in the few days since Kian had left, and he couldn’t help but wonder if there had been a little bit more to that. Sure, they were snogging all over the shop now, but he had no idea of the history and Mark was keeping his gob shut.

“Nix...”

Startled out of his thoughts, Nicky stared up at Mark for the first time in long minutes, seeing the troubled lines between his eyebrows and drawing his head up to kiss them.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. No. I dunno.” Mark closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s so real when I’m dreaming. Sometimes I can feel it.”

“Yeah.” Nicky breathed, closing his eyes and pressing his lips carefully to Mark’s, licking gently along them when they pulled away for a brief moment. “Is it bad?”

Mark sniffed. “It’s just so dark and horrible. I can feel my own blood sometimes. I just...” He gulped back a sob. “…and he burned me and... I’ve still got scars, I...” He fell silent, eyes still closed, and Nicky used the moment of unseeing quiet to let a tear fall down his nose and onto the pillow, leaving a salty trail over his lips. He pressed them back to Mark’s. Hard. Trying to distract both of them from the tears that were flowing freely now, sucking on Mark’s tongue and biting at his lips, trying to elicit a sound of some kind, the silence still deafening. Mark gasped and opened his mouth wider, tears mixing between them.

“I’m so sorry.” Nicky sobbed, grabbing at Mark’s hair, almost biting at his shoulder. “I’m so so sorry. It should never have happened. Not to you... Not you.” He gasped, rolling Mark onto his back and covering him, wanting to touch every inch at once, kissing over his cheeks and down his throat, then back up to his lips, plunging his tongue deep inside and hearing Mark’s surprised murmurs. He pulled back, suddenly, holding Mark’s face between his hands, needing to see him, make sure he was real. Apologetic, sorrowful eyes stared back; deep, open pools that swam murkily in front of Nicky’s eyes. Tears webbed the lashes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, voice cracking hoarsely. “I love you so much, I... I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Mark murmured, reaching up to stroke Nicky’s face gently, making him shiver as long fingers trailed down his jaw. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t even know me then.”

“But I should have. I should have stopped it.” Nicky said. “I’m so sorry…”

“Me too.” Mark murmured. “God, it’s fucked me up so much. I can’t even hold down a fucking relationship. That’s why Kian’s so good, I think. I think he’ll... understand. Or accept it. Or something.” He swallowed, looking up at Nicky with eyes that were too sad. “I love him.”

“More than me?”

“Different to you.” Mark replied. “You’re my friend. He’s something else. I can never love anyone _more_ than you.” He smiled tentatively, lifting a chaste kiss to Nicky’s lips that tingled over his flesh. “You’re perfect.”

“But I’m moody and competitive and horrible and... and I’m a loser. I don’t...”

“You’re perfect.” Suddenly, Mark seemed almost addicted to kissing him. Because he did it again. “And you’re a fantastic kisser.”

“Oh.” Nicky giggled, bending to drop his tongue quickly in Mark’s mouth. Mark grinned. “You too. Marky Mark.”

“Shut up!” Mark laughed suddenly and loudly, threading his fingers into Nicky’s hair and kissing him. It wasn’t hard, but it was consuming, making Nicky’s head swim as he tried to keep up with the pace Mark set. He groaned, feeling sudden pleasure wash over his body, and pressed down into the body beneath him, tilting his head and enjoying the little jolts of feeling that came from the soft tugs in his hair. Mark whimpered, and Nicky pulled away, feeling their growing erections come into contact.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Nicky shrugged. “I don’t mean to push you.”

“You’re not.” Mark chuckled, sitting up to face Nicky and draping his arms over Nicky’s shoulders, his fingers scraping his back. “I love you, right? This isn’t sex.”

“But Kian...”

“As I said, it’s not sex.” Mark replied, hands trailing down Nicky’s body to rest on his hips, squeezing gently. “This is about the fact that you’re my best friend and we love each other. It doesn’t feel like... cheating. Or whatever. It feels like you and me.”

“I don’t think Kian would agree.”

Looking up through lowered lashes, Nicky watched slow realisation bleed into Mark’s face, his gaze turning to somewhere over Nicky’s shoulder. Sighing, Nicky rolled away, sitting with his feet over the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry.” Mark murmured after what seemed like an eternity. Nicky blinked at the carpet. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay.” The words came out as a croak, Mark’s hand touching carefully onto his shoulder moments later. “I... I don’t know what’s going on. We’re not supposed to be...”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Nicky sighed, and then groaned, heaving himself forward off the bed. He began to pace, needing to move his legs, distract himself from the world for a moment, get rid of the excess energy that had suddenly flooded into him. Mark sat watching quietly, an unreadable expression on his face. “Do you really want to try it with Kian?”

“Yes.” Mark answered immediately, and with such certainty it made Nicky’s insides tremble.

“Then we can’t do this.” Nicky turned to face him, trying to look more resolute than he felt. He coughed once, trying to clear his unexpectedly clogged throat. “We can’t do this. It’s wrong. It isn’t...” He shook his head. “I’ll do anything else you like. I’ll sit up at four in the morning talking. I _want_ to do that. Really. I want you to tell me everything. I want to be your best friend and I want to love you and hang out with you and laugh with you and... all that crap.” He moved closer, meeting large blue eyes that stared back unwaveringly. “But we can’t do this.”

“No.” Mark said softly. He reached out his hand, and Nicky took it, sitting down again and curling up under Mark’s arm. Lips brushed his hair. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

The edge of Mark’s chin brushed Nicky’s hair when he nodded, and after a few moments of trying to slow down his heart, he turned properly into the embrace, capturing Mark in a hug that was actually quite chaste, considering the circumstances. Mark hugged him back.

“So we’re still friends, right?”

“Friends. Exactly.” Nicky nodded, pulling back enough that he could look Mark in the eye. Well, chin. General facial… area. Damn, Mark was tall.

Right on cue, Mark ducked his head, and their eyes caught for a split moment. Nicky smiled and reached out a hand.

“Friends?”

“Friends.” Mark repeated, a grin beginning to crawl over his face, widening and spreading like the Blob. Nicky kissed it, quickly, just because. Mark kissed him back. It was a very friendly kiss, nothing else to it.

“Right. Well.” Nicky attempted, and then realised he didn’t have anything to ‘right… well…’ about. But Mark seemed to understand, and hugged him again before pushing Nicky back to his side of the bed.

“So we should go back to sleep now.”

“Yep.” Nicky yawned, now that Mark had reminded him of it. “Do you want to stay?”

“If you don’t mind.” Anybody else would have gotten stuttery about it, and started to ask whether it was the right thing, or whether he was intruding, or if they might accidentally have sex during the night without knowing and, hey, should they really be taking that risk? But Mark just smiled, ran his fingers through Nicky’s hair, and didn’t even bother to wait for an answer before curling up under the blankets, tugging Nicky closer until their faces were almost – but not quite – touching. Nicky could taste Mark’s breath on his lips. He smiled.

“So, goodnight then.”

“Night Nix.” Mark yawned. “Thanks.”

Nicky didn’t know exactly what Mark was thanking him for. He didn’t really care. Just as long as Mark wasn’t crying, and was here, where Nicky could keep him safe.


	6. Chapter 6

After stepping over a discarded t-shirt and a lonely sock, Nicky had to grip the doorframe to climb over a large suitcase sat in the middle of the doorway. He looked around in confusion, wondering when Mark’s bedroom had exploded, and then caught sight of a dark head disappearing into the bathroom, hearing soft, velvety words that he couldn’t quite make out.

“Mark?”

Mark jumped slightly, and gestured at him until Nicky realised that he was, actually, on the phone, the handset clutched tightly to his ear while Mark’s free hand swept a shampoo bottle and toothbrush into the toiletry bag hung over his elbow, dangling beneath the phone. Nicky shrugged, completely confused, and retreated, hearing snippets of conversation bounce down the hall after him and into the kitchen.

“Yeah. So… no, no, that’s okay… look, will you just…” He sighed, but there was a slight grin in his voice before it faded beyond Nicky’s range of hearing, the bathroom door closing with a click.

When Mark finally came out, Nicky was sat at the table with two cups of tea in front of him, trying to figure out whether there was still a path from the kitchen to his bedroom, or whether he’d have to bring in a bulldozer. Mark grinned.

“Hey. Sorry, that was Kian.”

“Oh.” Nicky glanced around again, noting the boxers dangling precariously off a lampshade. “Tidying?”

“No. Well.” Mark laughed edgily, beginning to chew on the edge of his thumbnail. “Kian’s asked me to come up for the weekend!” He blurted, then blushed. “Uh. Yeah. So I thought I would. Tonight. So I can spend all tomorrow there and be back late Sunday night for school on Monday.” Nicky nodded, his brain too busy trying to process the basic information still to take in what Mark had really said.

Finally, Nicky blinked. “You’re leaving tonight? For Sligo?”

“Yeah.” Mark looked like he was trying not gush. “Ki’s gonna put me up at his, basically. He’ll pick me up from the station. Figured you’d need the car to get to work. And you know how much fuel costs.” He trailed off. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, fine, why shouldn’t it be?” Nicky looked down at his cup. “Should be fun.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a couple weeks since he’s left, and I kind of miss seeing him, which sounds really daft cos I hadn’t seen him for about three years before that. But we’ve really sort of… gotten back on track, like. Or we’re friends again. Properly. Or something. I don’t really know what we are. But that’s okay, cos he’s still my mate, right? And Shane’s great too, obviously, but me and Kian were always more close. We’ve been talking a lot lately. And you know, I should go visit my family too.” Mark fidgeted. “I would’ve asked you. But Ki’s not got enough beds.” He swallowed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, you tit.” Nicky fired back, grinning sickly. “Go on. Have fun.”

“Thanks.” Mark beamed, looking so much like a kid that had been allowed to go to carnival by himself for the first time that Nicky wanted to hug him and tell him to watch out for strange people. Suddenly, Mark leant down, pecking Nicky’s cheek. But before warmth could even filter into Nicky’s face, Mark had disappeared into the hall again, leaving his tea untouched. “Can you give me a lift to the station in like… twenty minutes?”

Nicky nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “Absolutely.” Mark’s head popped out from round the door.

“You’re the best. Now, where’s me good jacket?”

 

*

  
Mark had been gone four hours, and Nicky was bored. Four hours! There must be something truly wrong and co-dependant about that, and he’d even considered that for awhile, just to alleviate the boredom, but had given up and turned on the TV. It was Oprah, but that didn’t matter. He was just so fucking bored.

It was some rot about weight loss, so he turned that off pretty quickly, because it made him think of that time Mark had gone on a diet after deciding that he was way too big. Nicky had informed him that that was completely not true, and that the only thing Mark should worry about was whether he was healthy or not. Which had made Mark panic more. The whole thing had lasted for about fifteen minutes until Nicky got fed up and produced a packet of double mint chocolate biscuits and a tub of ice-cream. It was hilarious now, but at the time, Nicky had only been worried for his friend’s self-esteem. Mark was too gorgeous to be anxious about things like that.

Mark really did worry about the oddest things, now that Nicky thought about it. Like the time he’d convinced himself that a girl at uni was desperately in love with him and hanging around outside his window at night. She’d turned out to be a lesbian, and had been in Cork with her girlfriend that whole week. Nicky would have laughed himself stupid had Mark not been so terrified by it.

It was almost as funny as the time Mark had tripped on a country walk and fallen face first into the mud. Nicky’s stomach had lurched into his throat when he’d first seen him fall, he’d barely moved for the longest time. But by the time Nicky had run back, heart beating furiously, Mark was struggling back to his knees, the mud covering every inch of him, his face disgusted. Then he’d started to laugh, and once Nicky was sure he was completely in one piece, he’d had to join in. Mark was almost black, his eyes starkly white against the wet muck, but fine. Nicky had been scared for a moment there, though.

Not that he could be blamed for worrying about Mark. Not after what had happened to him. Mark was right, Nicky couldn’t have protected him; they hadn’t even known each other then. But that was the part that killed Nicky. Mark was the single most beautiful person Nicky had ever met, and the idea of someone hurting him, exploiting that perfect, beautiful innocence, made Nicky’s insides splinter. Mark hadn’t even told him anything until Nicky had confronted him, the nightly screaming sessions too much for him to bear; and the downcast, ashamed look in Mark’s eyes had made him want to hold Mark to him so much he couldn’t have left his side even to hunt down the bastards that had done this to him. And then he’d been kicked out of the room. Mark had never said another word about it. Not until recently.

Not that he knew exactly what had happened. It was bad, he’d known that much already, just from the noises Mark made in his sleep, the ones that sounded as though he was dying over and over and made Nicky weep in the room next to him. It had something to do with the round scars Nicky had spotted on Mark’s shoulders once, the ones that looked suspiciously liked cigarette burns. And the way Mark’s relationships always seemed to end suddenly, as soon as sex was so much as mentioned. And the flashbacks… god they were awful. Mark had only just admitted to them, but Nicky had caught him staring into the middle distance more than once, his eyebrows knitted in a look of pure agony and concentration, as though he were riding out the most terrible pain in the world. Once Nicky had slapped him, when Mark hadn’t moved for more than five minutes, and hadn’t responded to Nicky’s calls. The pained look Mark had slowly turned on him was so grateful it was heartbreaking, even with the print of Nicky’s hand still flushing his cheek.

Because Mark had been… god Nicky couldn’t even think the word. He had been… violated. Someone had touched him and hurt him in a way Nicky couldn’t even begin to imagine, and would only wish on the bastard who’d done this to someone as pure and sweet as Mark. Someone had left scars on Mark’s body and mind, had twisted his emotions so hard that sometimes Nicky wasn’t sure if Mark knew what he was feeling himself. Had made Mark scream in the night, had made him so paranoid that every person in the world was out to get him, and had made him so fragile that Nicky had wondered if falling into a puddle would make him shatter into a million irreparable pieces.

But then there was Kian. Nicky couldn’t understand that, not when Mark was frightened of his own shadow… when he wouldn’t even walk around the house with the lights off. Mark was willing to go across the country all by himself to see this young man that obviously wanted him as more than a friend. And Mark wanted that too, apparently. So what was he missing here? Why Kian? This person Mark hadn’t seen for three years, probably didn’t even know any more?

Why not Nicky?

That was a rhetorical question, of course. But… why not Nicky? Nicky had been there every second, had held Mark on the rare moments he allowed himself to break down. Nicky was the only one he did break down in front of, and Nicky felt so privileged to have that. Mark had kissed him, had touched him and held him down to the bed, had let Nicky push him down and had felt Nicky’s erection against him… and hadn’t struggled for one single moment. They cuddled up on the couch together. They drank out of the same glasses and ate off the same fork without a second thought. They’d even used each other’s toothbrushes on occasion. Mark had taken Nicky’s jacket with him to Sligo, and Nicky had seen him sniffing it before he’d packed it away in his case.

So why fucking Kian? Why did Mark want him more?

Nicky stood up from the couch, going to find himself some double mint chocolate biscuits. They were completely out of ice-cream – Mark had finished the last scoop the day before. Nicky wasn’t sure why, but that made a lump build in his throat. He ate a biscuit, and hoped it would force the lump back down. He swallowed it with a glass of water.

It hadn’t been sex, anyway. It had been love. And it hadn’t even happened, in the end. Nicky had stopped it.

Was Mark off doing that with Kian? Loving him to the point where it wasn’t even sex any more? Where it didn’t matter that Mark had been… fuck… violated. Where Mark was giving Kian something that Nicky had patiently sat and waited for the last two years? Was Kian getting Mark’s trust, his secrets? Did he even deserve it? Would he betray Mark? Nicky knew it was paranoid, that it was none of his business, really. That he was being too protective, not letting Mark live his own life. But Mark _was_ his life. Was that sad, that his best friend was his life? That he couldn’t even get a boyfriend because he needed to be home every time Mark came back after his latest disastrous break-up. That he couldn’t leave the house at night in case Mark needed him? He’d told himself he couldn’t be bothered with a boyfriend, but the truth was coming out now, and it scared him. He couldn’t have one. He had Mark instead.

Frustrated, Nicky punched the wall, but he didn’t do it hard enough to release any of the pent up emotion, too aware that this flat was rented and they couldn’t afford to be putting holes in the wall. Instead, he threw a biscuit at the television, watching it rattle slightly and double mint chocolate streak down the screen. He scowled at it, and collapsed back onto the couch, the phone catching his eye.

All he had to do was call. Just to check. Make sure Mark was thinking clearly, and not being manipulated. Be sure that his trust wasn’t being abused, and that he didn’t need Nicky.

Mark wouldn’t thank him for it, though.

Negotiating with himself, he picked up his phone, tapping out a quick message.

**msg wen u know wot time 2 pick u up from station :-) luv ya xxx say hi 2 kian. U get in ok? nix**

He hit send and, heart thumping wildly in his chest at thought that the message may have sounded overbearing or overprotective, set the phone back down on the table, staring expectantly at it. Maybe Mark would get it straight away and reply. He took another sip of his water, staring at the chocolate biscuit that had rolled under the coffee table, then glancing at the smeared goo on the television screen. Sighing, he stood up to get a wet cloth.

By the time the chocolate was successfully removed, there was still no reply. He scowled at his phone, and checked to make sure he hadn’t accidentally put it on silent and hadn’t heard a message come in. There was nothing. He tossed it on the couch, and went to pee.

When he came back there was a message blinking on the screen, and he dashed to the phone, fumbling while he tried to open it. Finally, the message appeared, and Nicky stared at it, not sure whether to be relieved or more worried.

**got in fine mother hen. shud msg 2moro night 2 let u no. ki sez hi :-) he looks gorge ;-o love ya xxxx mark**

Kian looked gorgeous. So did Brad Pitt, according to Mark. Nicky could deal with that. And of course Nicky was a mother hen, Mark already knew that. It was a running joke.

So why did that message sting so much?

 

*

 

Friday night hadn’t gotten much better after that. Nicky had channel surfed for awhile, before finally settling back on Oprah and falling asleep in front of the TV. When he woke up, it was dark, and instead of being in his bed, he was on the couch, although he didn’t realise it for the first few seconds, he was so completely disoriented. If Mark had been home, he would’ve woken to the TV being switched off, and Mark helping him up the stairs to his room. But Mark wasn’t home.

Saturday was as bad as Friday had been. He went to work, but his mind definitely wasn’t on it. He couldn’t get it out of his head… what Mark might be doing now, whether he was having a good time or not, whether Kian was treating him well. By the time he staggered home at four o’clock, there were still no messages on his phone, and the light on their answering machine had a big fat zero on it. Nicky scowled at it for awhile, then decided to make dinner. He thought about ordering a takeout, but it didn’t feel right without Mark hanging over his shoulder, talking in his ear, changing his mind mid-decision, and tugging his sleeve to make sure Nicky had ordered the right kind of garlic bread. And anyway, he didn’t have enough money. They usually split the bill.

So, finally, a bow of instant noodle soup balanced in his lap, he collapsed in front of the television, his phone conveniently in his line of vision and the sound not too loud, just in case Mark did decide to call. There was nothing on, _again_ , and this time he settled for Frasier, half-heartedly watching it, his gaze drawn every few seconds to his phone.

Oh, fuck it.

The phone rang four times before it was picked up, by which time Nicky’s fingernails were almost completely digested. He blinked though, when a different voice answered it, his own voice deserting him for a moment.

“Mark’s phone.”

“…”

“Erm… hello?”

“Oh, hi. Sorry, this is Nicky.” Nicky’s voice sounded embarrassingly squeaky, even to his own ears, and he flinched. “…Kian? That you?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I’ll grab him for you.” There was talking in the background, and Nicky heard Kian move away from the phone. Then there was a giggle. Mark. Mark didn’t giggle. There was whispered conversation, and then there was one of those real, fantastic, Mark laughs that nobody else could possibly do in a million billion years. Kian laughed too.

“Hello?” Mark sounded kind of breathless. Nicky bit back an angry remark, not sure why he should be feeling angry at all. It was just Mark, for god’s sakes.

“Sorry, just wanted to know if you knew where the Pledge was?”

Anyone else would’ve rolled his eyes, laughed, and hung up, but Mark just chuckled affectionately.

“There’s a whole thing of it under the sink. Why, did you spill something? We’re not gonna lose our bond are we?”

“No! Not at all! Just… spilled some… toast.” He mentally slapped himself. How the fuck did you spill _toast?_ Mark sighed, and then his breath hitched, and there was a shaky laugh. Nicky swallowed, his heart leaping to his throat. “You okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Mark replied, then his voice dropped. “ _Kian, stop it. On the phone._ ” There was a muffled laugh. “Sorry, mate. Look, can I ring you back later? Ki’s… uh… mam’s… coming over.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so.” There was more giggling in the background. “Oh! And pick me up from the… train at… _aahh_ … _god Ki, wait…_ around four. Okay, bye.”

The phone went dead before Nicky could even reply. He looked at it for a second, then threw it at the wall, doubling himself into a ball and staring resolutely away from the blank chunk of plastic. He didn’t know if it was broken, he didn’t much care. Because what the fuck had that been?

Mark didn’t… didn’t do that. Didn’t giggle like some schoolgirl with her knickers in a knot over the footy captain. Didn’t make low, breathless little moans when Kian… did whatever he had done to get Mark off the phone that quickly. Mark didn’t hang up on Nicky so quickly he probably broke his finger pounding the off button. Mark didn’t.

“Fucker.” Nicky mumbled. It didn’t make him feel any better. Because Mark wasn’t. He was this kind, sweet, sensitive kid that gave the best hugs in the whole world and seemed to know exactly what Nicky needed to cheer him up. Mark was beautiful and innocent, and made you wonder how the world could be so jaded when there was someone like that in it. Mark loved and laughed with his whole heart. But he cried in his sleep in a way that was so heartbreaking it made you want to die, because how could someone ever do that to someone as perfect as Mark? Mark wasn’t a… a fucker. Or maybe he was. Nicky hadn’t thought he was a giggler, either.

Or maybe Nicky had missed something, along the way.

Maybe Nicky didn’t really know Mark at all. Maybe this wonderful, hurt boy had grown up somewhere along the road without Nicky noticing it. Maybe he could take care of himself, and love other people in a way that wasn’t singularly platonic. Maybe he had a past that was bigger than the bad times and filled with good times Nicky didn’t even know about. Maybe Mark wasn’t a little kid anymore. Maybe he didn’t even need Nicky anymore.

Nicky crawled off the lounge and went to pick up the two halves of his phone, snapping them back together once he’d located the battery and replaced it. The screen blinked dully. There were no messages. Mark was probably too busy.


	7. Chapter 7

Mark stepped off the train right on four o’clock Sunday afternoon, a fresh, healthy glow in his cheeks. Nicky watched him for a moment before going over, unable to believe the change. Maybe it was the country air – Dublin was always so polluted – but Mark looked… happy. Happier than Nicky had seen him in a long time. There was no haunted shadow in his eyes, his gait was long and confident, and his hands, for once, weren’t stuffed deep in his pockets or nervously twisting together, but swinging in rhythm with his steps. There was even a small smile on his face, those frowning, pouting lips curved up in a way that was utterly delicious.

“Nicky!” Mark spotted him, and charged over to wrap Nicky in a hug that was steady and sure, his lips brushing Nicky’s hair. Nicky hugged back, not sure what else to do. “Hey!”

“Hey.” Nicky pulled back, trying to study Mark, figure out where things had gone so suddenly different. Mark grinned, draping his arm around Nicky’s shoulders and steering them to the car park. “How was your weekend?”

“Fantastic!” Mark laughed, his eyes bright. “I thought it might be weird to be home, but it was perfect. Kian’s got this really nice little cottage. Not glamorous, of course, but it’s got a lovely view of the Lough. It was gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” Nicky could imagine it now. Mark, sitting near huge bay windows, the sunset bathing everything in an orange glow, while Kian started to make work on a fire. The two of them going down to the lake to feed ducks, and then back to the cottage for dinner and a glass of red wine. It was so fucking perfect.

“Yeah.” Mark giggled. Again. When had he started that? “I’d forgotten how beautiful it was back home. It’d be great to live there. Kian’s so lucky.”

“Uh huh.” Nicky nodded, feeling his face begin to heat and trying to hide it with his hair. What the hell was he so angry about? It was Mark’s home; he could sod off there forever if he felt like it. Nicky couldn’t do anything about that. “So what is he doing in Sligo, then?” Probably working for his dad. Wasn’t that what country folk did?

“Teaching. Like me! Wild, hey?” Mark grabbed the keys from Nicky’s hand and jumped into the driver’s seat. Nicky shrugged and went around to the passenger side. Mark could drive if he wanted. Nicky felt a bit too shaky anyway, for some reason. “Private music teaching. Piano and guitar. He does it out of his house, so I got to see a couple of lessons. It was so sweet. He’s brilliant around kids.” Mark grinned. “I can’t wait until he comes to visit.”

That completely jarred Nicky’s brain, and he blinked. “Uh… what?”

“Didn’t I tell you? He’s coming down in a couple of days. The weekend after next. I thought I said on the phone?”

“No. You didn’t.” Nicky tried not to growl, he really did. “But that’s okay, you sounded rushed.”

“Oh.” At least Mark had the decency to look ashamed, a blush flooding into his cheeks. But there was a guiltily pleased little smile underneath it all, which did absolutely nothing to make Nicky feel better. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” It was. It really was. Mark’s sex life was none of his business.

“So… do you mind if he comes? Cos I can call him and tell him if it’s not…”

“Of course he can.” Nicky replied, because you couldn’t say much else to the hopeful look in Mark’s face. And what the hell would Mark think if Nicky said no? He might think Nicky had a problem with it. And he didn’t. “Just give me a heads up and I’ll make up the couch.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“That’s okay, he can sleep in my room.” Mark coughed, and Nicky looked over to see that blushing little smile again. “Uh… if you don’t mind, that is.”

“I don’t.” Nicky said resolutely.

“Okay, cool.” Mark grinned and leant over while they were stopped at the lights to kiss Nicky’s cheek. “Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too, Marky.” A smile spread over Nicky’s face at that soft press of cushiony skin to his cheek, and the gentle honesty in Mark’s voice. He couldn’t hate him. He really couldn’t. How could you hate someone like Mark?

 

*

 

“Do we have icecream?”

“Nope. You finished it before you left.” Nicky dropped a few ice cubes into his glass, and then put the tray away. He turned to smile at Mark. “And don’t look like that; it’s your own fault.” Nicky dropped a kiss on the pout, making Mark grin into his coffee.

“Do we have chocolate biscuits then?”

“Cupboard. Get them yourself.” Nicky pointed, pouring water over the ice cubes that clinked in his glass when he went to sit down. Mark returned with a packet of biscuits and put them out on the table. Nicky took one.

“I’ve gotten Kian hooked on these.” Mark’s voice broke the silence, and Nicky looked up to see Mark smiling shyly over a half-eaten biscuit. “We’ve been eating them all weekend.”

“Nice one.” Nicky laughed, and put his down. He didn’t feel like it now. “Pusher.”

“Well, it’s better than drugs. And yummier.” Nicky had to laugh at that, taking another sip of his water. Mark giggled. “He kept going on about how I was gonna make him fat. But I kept saying… I don’t care. Cos it’s not like he’s not gorgeous. He’s not skinny, but most of it’s muscle, so I don’t really mind.” Mark blushed, his hand coming over his mouth as thought he thought he’d said too much. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I promise I won’t go all swoony over Kian. It’ll make you jealous.”

“Yeah, well.” Mark smiled into his coffee, then bit off both ends of his biscuit and dunked it in. Nicky looked at him in confusion.

“What you doing?”

“Oh, Kian showed me this.” Mark sucked on one bitten end of the biscuit, the other still dunked in the coffee. Moments later, the biscuit began to melt and Mark quickly shoved it in his mouth, licking chocolate off his fingers. “S’good. You use it as a straw, like. And drink coffee up through the inside. Or hot chocolate. Then it goes melty.” He was still licking his fingers, popping them in and out of his mouth, tongue running up and down them. Nicky watched, then went back to his drink, swallowing a mouthful and choking when a shrivelled ice sliver slipped down his throat. Mark slapped him on the back.

“You okay?” God, why did Mark have to look like that? So concerned and wonderful? Nicky nodded, coughing to clear his throat, and then sipped small mouthfuls of water until he felt normal again. Mark rubbed his back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Nicky scowled cheerfully, pushing him away. “Don’t panic.”

“Just checking. Don’t want you to die or something.”

“Die? Isn’t that slightly melodramatic?”

“I was kidding.”

“Oh.” Nicky cleared his throat, looking up into big blue eyes that stared cautiously at him, an affectionate smile crossing Mark’s lips. “Ugh.”

Mark rolled his eyes, sitting back in his seat and picking up another chocolate biscuit. “So, I was going to say… when are you going to see about learning to be a proper hairdresser?”

Nicky rolled his eyes right back. “When I win the lottery.”

“I won five quid on a scratchie over the weekend. You can have that to start you off.”

“Funny.” Nicky snorted, beginning to clear his glass from the table and reaching for his jacket. “I gotta go to work. You right to cook tonight?”

“I’ll keep the fire extinguisher handy.” Mark smirked, then grabbed Nicky’s arm suddenly, yanking him back until Nicky found himself sat in Mark’s lap, an arm coming around his waist to trap him. “I’m not letting you leave until you promise to at least see about it.”

“About what?”

“A… a traineeship or whatever. Come on, Nix. You’d love it. Please.”

Nicky shook his head. Why was Mark so adamant about this? He’d be quiet for weeks, and then it’d pop up and he’d have to tell him no all over again. He couldn’t have it. It wasn’t fair for Mark to build him up like this. It wasn’t fair.

“Stop it. Leave me alone.”

“But…”

“Leave it, I said!” Nicky cried, shoving away from Mark’s lap and spinning to glare at him. “Can’t you just let anything go?”

Mark’s cheeks flushed with hurt. “I just wanted…”

“Yeah, well.” The look in Mark’s eyes was too much. Nicky had promised himself a long time ago that he’d never hurt Mark, and that look just reduced him to a trembling wreck. “Just… don’t.” He turned quickly, then strode out the door, not wanting to feel sorry for Mark. He felt too sorry for himself. And anyway, this was Mark’s fault.

 

*

 

“Wondered when you’d be home.” Mark was sitting on the couch when Nicky crept cautiously in, trying to make as little noise as possible. He felt a little like a cat burglar. Until he’d spotted Mark in the dark and it had scared the living crap out of him. “You’ve remembered where you live, have you?”

Trying to slow his rapidly beating heart, Nicky leant against the doorframe, making a futile attempt to avoid the glare Mark was giving him. Four hours of walking, and he’d finally ended up racing home as fast as he could. It may have seemed as though Mark didn’t need him anymore, but that didn’t stop the niggling worry in the back of Nicky’s mind. The silence when he’d crept in had been more worrying than the crying, admittedly. And through his shock, Nicky was actually relieved that Mark was sitting up, looking completely fine. And completely annoyed.

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you’d been mugged or something. I couldn’t reach you on your mobile.”

Nicky pulled it out of his pocket, groaning when a blank screen met him. He must’ve forgotten to recharge the batteries again. Aiming an apologetic glance at Mark, he went to plug his phone in, jumping when he turned back and Mark was stood right behind him, his eyes red in the harsh white light of the kitchen.

”Where were you?”

“Walking.” There was no point lying, really. His feet were killing him. He winced, and collapsed into a plastic dining chair, kicking his shoes off under the table. Mark sat down across from him. “Sorry. My batteries must’ve died.”

“You would’ve noticed if you’d thought of calling.” Mark looked up, his eyes redder than they had been, and his chin wobbled. “Shit, I thought something had happened. Don’t do that to me again.”

“I...” Nicky looked down at his hands, feeling suddenly ashamed. “Sorry. I needed to think.”

“About what?”

About the reasons he hated Kian so much, with an all encompassing agony he’d never felt in his whole life. About why he’d had images of smashing that (apparently) gorgeous, blonde head into a large rock. About why when Mark had come home looking so beautiful and happy, Nicky had wanted to cry. About why Mark could be so perfect right when Nicky wanted to hate him so much. Why he _couldn’t_ hate him at _all_ , no matter what he did. And about why, when Mark had kissed him two weeks ago, he’d never wanted anyone more in his life. He just wished he’d realised that. Then.

“About… things. I just had a bad day.”

Mark sighed, his face softening, and reached out to take Nicky’s hand. Nicky didn’t have the strength to pull it away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just needed to clear my head.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Nicky shook his head, squeezing Mark’s hand. “I’m fine. Sorry I worried you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, you’re safe. That’s the main thing.” Mark let out a deep, relieved breath that made Nicky want to punch himself. “Sorry, I just… you’re my best mate and I… you… if I lost you, I…”

“I… I get it.” Nicky’s heart was swelling out of his chest, it really was. He swore he heard a rib crack. “Same here.” Mark’s hand squeezed and then left his, and he looked up to see Mark moving over to the fridge, taking out a plate and putting it in the microwave, removing the cling film as he did.

“I kept your dinner. Figured you might want it.” Nicky gulped, feeling his eyes prick with tears. Then checked his watch.

“For six hours?”

“Well, nothing like bacon fettuccine at one in the morning.” Mark bustled about, putting salt and pepper on the table and opening a can of Coke, setting in front of Nicky. Then he went and pulled the plate out of the microwave. The smell of melted cheese filled the little room. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. God, this is good.” Mark watched Nicky eat, an expression of anxious curiosity in his eyes. Nicky tried to ignore it. How did you explain to your best friend that you hated their boyfriend that much? And then that you couldn’t hate him, really, because that would mean hurting the person you loved most in the entire world? He attempted a comforting smile, and Mark shrugged back.

 

*

 

Nicky didn’t go to sleep for a long time that night, too focused on the sounds in the next room. Or lack thereof. For the first time in a long time, there didn’t seem to be any crying from the next room, nor the creak of bedsprings as Mark rolled around in his sleep. Instead, there was just silence. An occasional snore. And that was all.

He buried his face in his pillow and cried silently, ears pricked for the slightest hint that Mark might need him.

It never came.


	8. Chapter 8

“No, I gotta go. Yeah, I do. I do, Ki. Well, then you hang up. No, don’t. Don’t. Wait. You hang up. I… No, no, you. Look, I gotta go but I’m not hanging up first. I’m not. You. Okay, you ready? Bye. …you were supposed to hang up first! No I wasn’t! Kian! I… okay, I’ll see you soon. Bye. No, bye. Okay, soon. I… soon. I’ll see you tonight. Yes, I will. Bye. Seeyoubye!” With that, Mark slammed the phone down hard onto the cradle, the silly grin that had been painted across his face for the last half an hour widening that impossible fraction of an inch more while Mark stared longingly at the phone. Nicky wanted to throw up.

“You finished with that disgusting display of soppiness?”

At least Mark blushed. His eyes were bright, though, and the grin intensified.

“Yeah. For today.” He laughed, then fell back on the couch, head falling off the armrest. “I’m so fucking in love!”

“I can tell.” Nicky grabbed his feet and began to pull. “Come on, or I won’t have time to give you a lift.”

Batting Nicky’s hands away, Mark stood up, looking so full of beans it almost made Nicky’s eyes hurt to watch him as he ran to the door to grab his jacket and shoved his runners on. Nicky watched anyway, even if the healthy glow in Mark’s cheeks threatened to blind him.

 

*

 

“Mmm… oh god…”

That was the first thing Mark said when Nicky walked in the door that night. And it wasn’t directed at him. Nicky felt himself blush. He’d been prepared for anything, had been steeling himself for absolutely any sight his mind could conjure up. But the adoring fondness in Mark’s eyes, the gentle tenderness in Kian’s as they lay together on the couch… that was something that was so much worse than walking in to them fucking against the kitchen table.

“You’re so…” Kian whispered back, fingers catching Mark’s and pulling them down to press against his own hips, wriggling under the shifting touch of Mark’s fingers – the touch Nicky could finally admit he desperately wanted to feel against his own skin. “…beautiful.” Kian finished. He let go of Mark’s hands, and entwined his own through soft, dark hair. Nicky could see his eyes sparkling warmly, even from his position at the door. They were too wrapped up in each other to know he was here, and so he took the opportunity to sneak away, slinking into the kitchen and slumping down at the table.

There was a strangled yelp from the other room, and Nicky nearly stood right back up again, too used to Mark’s cries to do anything else. But it was followed immediately by a giggle. He sank back down, head in his hands, and looked through his fingers at the table, trying not to listen to the two in the next room.

“You want anything?” Mark said softly.

“Nah. Totally happy right now.” Kian laughed, his voice affectionate, and Mark made a little content noise.

“Sweet-talker.”

“Sex god.”

“Well, if the shoe fits.” Mark laughed.

“As long as the shoes come off. Or I’ll never get your trousers off.” Kian retorted, his voice suggestive, and the very next thing Nicky heard was a breathless, arching moan. Tears pricked his eyes. Mark giggled again.

“Do that again.” Kian muttered.

“What?” There was a sudden, sharp gasp. “…this?”

“Yeah. God…” Kian’s voice cracked. “Oh god, Mark… feels good.”

“Mmm… you’re so hot…” Mark said hoarsely, his voice low and trembling. “I love when you do that… make those noises.”

“I love you.”

Nicky only just heard it, Kian’s softly reverent voice only just reaching his ears from this far away, but it screamed through his head like a banshee and raged down into his heart, shattering the last remaining shred of energy he had left. He slumped forward onto the table, all the fight gone out of him. That was it. There was nothing else left.

“I love you too.” Mark murmured.

Nicky sobbed quietly, tears running down onto the rutted wood beneath his face.

 

*

 

Nicky felt very alone. Which he shouldn’t, considering he was in a room with two other people. Within inches of them, even. But here, huddled up at one end of the couch in the dark room, he felt very, very alone.

Next to him, Mark giggled, hefting the remote in one hand and squeezing Kian’s shoulder with the other. Kian looked up from Mark’s embrace with a look of complete and utter adoration, grinning at him and patting his knee. Nicky stared at the television. It was some shit movie Mark had brought home from the video shop, not that the quality really mattered – no-one was watching it anyway. The happy couple were too wrapped up in each other, and Nicky was concentrating too hard on not drowning in his own misery.

Because that might be a bit of a give away.

Why hadn’t he figured this out beforehand? If he was destined to be pathetically and irrevocably in love with his best friend, why couldn’t it have been while said best friend was still in his perpetual state of singledom? Why did it have to be the moment – the very moment – someone else started moving into Mark’s life? Someone who had managed to gain so much ground in the last decades Nicky would never have a hope of catching up?

Fucking why?

He’d spent the hours leading up to this one trying to figure it all out, with no success. He’d picked himself up off the table not long after bursting into silent tears, not wanting to be caught if Mark and Kian decided to untangle themselves from each other and sneak into the kitchen. Then he’d showered and put on fresh clothes, wiping away with his towel all the tears he hadn’t managed to shed in the shower. Then he’d sat for a long time on his bed, head in his hands, trying to work it out.

What was so damn special about Mark, anyway? Of course he was smart and funny and kind and sweet and gentle and gorgeous and friendly and just so damn… protectable it made Nicky’s heart hurt. But he’d been that way from the first moment, and Nicky had never felt this. Not this aching, yearning need to be near Mark all the time. To touch him, to hold him, and to be there for him in absolutely everything he did, to know all his secrets.

…So maybe he had always felt this. But never…

He’d never wanted Mark like this. Never wanted to have him, be the only person for him. He’d never wanted to belong to Mark, and never wanted Mark to belong to him. He’d never needed to – nobody had ever gotten closer to belonging to Mark than him.

Until Kian.

Was Mark doing all those things with Kian? The things Nicky wanted? He was touching and holding Mark right in front of him, that much was obvious. But was he doing the other things? Was he taking care of Mark, making sure he was alright? Did he know how fragile Mark was, that sometimes he cried in his sleep and that he sometimes froze into these horrible, horrible moments of blank pain that Nicky had to slap him out of? Was Mark telling Kian his secrets? The ones Mark had never been able to tell Nicky?

“So Nicky…” Kian’s voice snapped Nicky out of his increasingly melancholy thoughts, and he looked up, meeting pale blue eyes that danced in the flickering light of the television. Kian smiled tentatively. “…Mark says you’re learning to be a hairdresser or something?”

A hot, hateful flash of anger shot through Nicky’s mind, but he shook it away, smiling sweetly at Mark’s guilty flush.

“Well, that’s what Mark wants me to be.” Nicky chuckled flippantly. “No, I just sweep up the hair.”

“But you’re so talented!” Mark protested. “He just won’t give it a go.” He said conspiratorially to Kian. “I keep telling him to go do a traineeship or something.”

“And Mark needs to learn when to let things go.” Nicky snapped back before he could help himself. “And that everyone isn’t the wonder-boy he is.”

“I…” Mark started, before stopping awkwardly, his cheeks colouring. He shook his head. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“But… that wasn’t very fair…” Kian said slowly, glancing at Nicky. “I mean, he just wants you to succeed, right?”

“It’s not your business. Leave it alone.” Nicky replied, trying not to let total anger invade his voice. Mark was talking about him with Kian, was he? Bringing up all this shit that was none of Kian’s business?

“I just thought it was bit rude.” Kian said, more steadily this time. “You didn’t need to be horrible to him. I shouldn’t have asked, maybe.”

“It’s not your fault. He’s the one who shouldn’t have been talking about me _behind_ _my back_.” Nicky growled back, the anger rapidly infecting his voice. He glared at Mark’s downcast face. “What else have you been saying about me? Apart from how fucking useless I am.”

“I didn’t mean…” Mark stuttered. “I mean, I just was talking about you and it came up. I wasn’t…”

“Talk about me often, do you?”

“He does, as a matter of fact.” Kian interjected, crossing his arms and staring at Nicky with stark defiance and annoyance in his eyes. “All the fucking time. You’re his best friend. Although I can’t see why, seeing as all you’re doing is treating him like shit.”

“Kian, please don’t…” Mark started, but Nicky cut him off.

“ _I’m_ the one treating him like shit, am I? I’m the one who’s taken care of him for two fucking years! Do you know the first thing about what he’s been through? Do you know what it’s like to hear him crying at four in the morning and knowing he’s not slept? Do you know how to deal with the nightmares, and with the blackouts, and with the screaming in his sleep…?” Nicky trailed off, aware suddenly that he may have said too much when Mark lurched to his feet and skidded from the room, bedroom door slamming with a bang behind him

“Oh shit…” Kian stood too, going after him, but Nicky held him back, yanking him back to the couch with a grip on his t-shirt.

“Don’t. I know what to do.”

“No you fucking don’t, you’ve just made it worse, you prick!” Kian snarled back, shoving him away. Nicky stood, shoving him back.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t you touch me either, then!” Kian yanked his t-shirt out of Nicky’s grip, only to be grabbed by the shoulders. Nicky felt muscles tense under his hands. “Let go of me, I’ve got to see if he’s okay!”

“He’s _not_ fucking okay! Don’t you know that by now?”

“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.” Kian stopped, taking Nicky’s hands and removing them gently. His face still fumed with anger, but there was something calmer there now, colder, that locked their eyes together. “So I need to go make sure he’s okay before he hurts himself.”

“He’s my best friend…”

“…and he’s my boyfriend.” Kian replied. “And I love him, right? This is about Mark. Not about you.”

Nicky slapped him. Hard. Blinking in surprise when Kian’s head whipped to the side, Nicky’s hand blurring after it. He dropped his hand, staring at it, and then at the red finger prints on Kian’s cheek when the younger boy turned slowly to look at him, tears springing in one eye, just above the marks. Nicky’s mouth stuttered on empty words.

“Kian… I… I didn’t mean…” He looked up, seeing hatred blazing in Kian’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off.” Kian spat, turning on his foot and following Mark’s quickly cooling tracks.

“Kian, wait…”

“No.” Kian yanked open Mark’s door and disappeared inside, shutting it quietly behind him. Nicky heard quiet sobs in the few seconds the door was ajar, and sank to his knees on the carpet, the light of the television still flickering over his pale skin in the dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Nicky hugged his pillow to his chest, half-asleep. Hours had passed since Mark’s disappearance into his bedroom. Nicky had sat for a long time in front of Mark’s door, trying desperately not to give in to the urge to eavesdrop, knowing it was completely unfair to Mark. But he could barely contain himself. He just wanted to know Mark was alright, wanted to go in there and protect him and let him cry and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Tell Mark how much he loved him and that he’d never hate him, no matter what Mark told him, what secret he gave up.

Not long after, the light soaking out from under the door had blinked off. Nicky had stared at the blank floor for a second, hearing bed springs squeak and soft murmuring from inside the room. Then there had been silence.

Nicky had suddenly felt very alone again.

He’d gone next door and climbed into bed, tucking the blankets up around his chin and huddling against his pillow, tears dampening his cheeks, a thick clot of guilt sitting heavily in his stomach. Unable to believe he’d done that. Said all those things, those secrets, about Mark. Told Kian all that. Not that it wasn’t obvious that Kian already knew, but Nicky hadn’t known that then. He’d betrayed his best friend. And then he’d slapped Kian.

He couldn’t have done much more to push Mark away. Rather than have what he really wanted – a fighting chance at keeping Mark in his life – he’d done the exact opposite. Hatred wouldn’t even begin to describe what Mark was probably feeling right now, and Kian was probably not talking him out of it. Not after the way Nicky had acted earlier. Like a petulant, selfish little child.

It had all been so sudden. He’d never meant to slap Kian, he’d never meant to say anything; certainly not those horrible things. But then Kian had spoken and those familiar and overwhelming feelings had welled up. The feeling that Nicky was secondary, that he was a joke. The feeling that Mark could invest more faith and trust in Kian than in Nicky. And why not? Nicky was a loser. A university dropout, a failure with no real goals except getting by. Mark probably knew where he wanted to go. He’d want to move forward, just like Kian. They could move forward together and leave Nicky behind, sat by himself in the same place until the day he died – still broke, still a failure, still living in this shithole apartment.

Had he lost Mark forever? He didn’t know. But Kian was a certainty now, someone with a definite place in Mark’s life. So Nicky would just have to start dealing with that if he wanted to keep his own place. Assuming the offer was still open. But Mark was moving forward.

Maybe he’d have to do that too.

Kian had been right. This was all about Mark.

And Nicky intended to keep him.

 

*

 

Mark was sitting at the dining table when Nicky walked in the next morning, the taste of toothpaste still tangy in his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to react, so he crossed the kitchen and began to look through the fridge for some breakfast. He could feel Mark staring.

“Are you just going to ignore me, then?”

Mark spoke with a voice that was croaky and strained. Nicky resisted the urge to turn around.

“Where’s Kian?”

“Showering.” Mark replied. “So are we gonna talk about this, or what?”

“What are we talking about?”

“I dunno. Last night? When you slapped Kian? Or when you acted like a complete prick to me? You had absolutely no right to do that.”

Nicky shook his head, mildly surprised by the response he was getting from Mark. A few months ago the younger lad wouldn’t have said boo to a goose, and now he was almost… demanding that Nicky acknowledge him. Nicky wasn’t sure whether he liked it… whether this new, confident Mark was a reasonable replacement for the Mark he’d lost. This Mark was happier, of course, but the old Mark… that had been Nicky’s Mark.

“I’m going out.”

“No, you’re staying here and you’re gonna explain yourself.”

“Or you’ll what?”

“Or I’ll…” Mark snapped, but obviously didn’t know exactly where he was going with that sentence. He stuttered to a halt, a weary sigh gushing from his lips. “I… I just want to know what’s happened with us…”

“You told him.” Nicky muttered, not expecting Mark to hear him. But hear him he did.

“Told who what?”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry.”

“What doesn’t matter? I don’t understand…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Nicky mumbled, heading for the front door again without even looking round. “Just… don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Where are you going?” Mark growled, standing up

“Out.” Nicky replied simply, then paused, running a hand over his face and turning around to look at his exasperated friend. “I just… have some stuff to do. I’ll be back this afternoon. You guys…” He swallowed. “Look, enjoy the empty house. Whatever. I’ll be back later.” He smiled weakly at Mark then, running a hand through his hair, left the apartment.

 

*

 

Nicky’s boss had a penchant for changing her hair as often as possible – probably a symptom of working in a salon that was almost always empty. It gave her something to do. Today, her long hair was pulled into a high, bright-purple ponytail, the underneath of which was dyed a deep blue-black.

She looked up in surprise when he walked in.

“Nicky! You’re not working today, are you?”

“Nah. Just dropping in.” He looked around the empty shop. “Busy day?”

“Hah.” Carolyn rolled her eyes. “You know, I don’t know why I keep you employed? It’s not like there’s anything to do round here anyway.”

“You’re hoping I’ll bring in the lasses.” It was a long-standing joke between them. Nicky had started working for her when she had been in her old location in the shopping centre nearby. But when the rent had run out she’d been forced to move here, to a busy suburban corner with absolutely no parking. And Nicky had gone with her. She was fond of him, he knew that, maybe even had a bit of a crush on him, but he didn’t mind. She was a nice girl, and she paid him.

“What can I help you with, then?” She asked. “You’re not after a haircut, are you? Because I don’t think I can squeeze you in.”

“Too bad.” He chuckled. “Like the hair today, by the way.”

“Thanks. I got bored.” She sighed, slumping down into one of the chairs. “You want a cuppa, or a glass of water or anything?”

Nicky shook his head. “No thanks. I actually wanted to ask you something…”

 

*

 

It was almost four hours later that Nicky finally arrived home. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, keys jangling. The living room was empty so he made his way to the kitchen, hearing soft laughter. He made a fair amount of noise as he went through, trying to alert Mark and Kian of his presence, just in case they were doing anything that might scar him for life.

When he walked in they were standing there, a foot apart, staring at the door and shuffling their feet as though they were completely innocent, but looking extremely uncomfortable in an empty kitchen with their cheeks flushed and shirts buttoned wrong.

“Erm… hi.” Mark said. “We were just…”

“…hanging out.” Kian finished for him, then his cheeks coloured further when he looked down and realised his fly was undone. Nicky wasn’t sure whether he wanted to giggle hysterically or cry.

“That’s nice.” Nicky looked between of them. “Kian? Can I talk to you a second?”

Kian gave him a strange look. He was obviously still prickly around Nicky, and Nicky could hardly blame him. But he nodded anyway, and when Mark opened his mouth to protest, Kian shushed him.

“It’s okay.”

“Okay.” Mark shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll just… I need a shower.” He left the room, glancing back worriedly over his shoulder. Nicky wanted to do what he usually did when Mark was worried - hug him - but the look Kian was giving him automatically deemed that inappropriate.

“Nicky.” Kian said.

“Kian.” Nicky sighed, sitting down on one of the plastic dining chairs and motioning for Kian to sit too. Kian stood for a second, his face stubbornly impassive, then sat, looking extremely solemn.

Nicky supposed that was his cue to speak.

He’d gone over this speech hundreds of times in his head, all the words he’d use to make Kian see that… what? Nicky wasn’t the biggest arsehole ever? That he wasn’t a terrible friend? But at the last second, now that Kian’s expression was real, he threw all that away. And went for the truth.

“I just wanted to say that… I’m sorry.” He looked up from his knees, which he had been studiously examining. Kian’s face was still severe, but as Nicky watched it softened a little, his eyebrows unknitting and mouth coming out of its rigid frown.

“Nicky…” Kian sighed, but Nicky interrupted him.

“No, I have to say this, okay?” He inhaled deeply, then let it out, not feeling any more relaxed. “I’m sorry. I’ve treated you like a bastard, and what I did last night was unforgivable. I get a bit… protective of him, okay? You know yourself… he’s been through a lot and I… I guess I get on the defensive automatically.” He pursed his lips, watching his fingers twist nervously around each other.

There was a short silence, but to Nicky it seemed to go on forever. Kian ran his hand over his face and sighed again. Then he spoke.

“You did a nasty thing to him last night. I don’t know if I’d call that defending him.”

“I know.” Nicky nodded. “It was selfish. Sometimes I feel like… you’re taking him away from me. God, that sounds so awful but he’s my best friend. I don’t want to lose him, and I worry that…” He looked up at Kian, who was watching him tensely. “You’ll take care of him, right? You wouldn’t push him or hurt him or…”

“No. I love him. So much.” They both looked toward the sound of water falling into the bath. “I would never hurt him or betray his trust.”

Nicky nodded. “He does trust you. He’s told you more than he’s told me, I think.”

Kian frowned, leaning on one hand and looking in the direction of the bathroom. His eyes didn’t move from that spot, and for a moment Nicky wondered if he could actually see through the walls and look at Mark, keep an eye on him. For a wild, selfish moment, Nicky wished he could see Mark too, stood in the shower like that.

“He hasn’t told me that much.” Kian said quietly. “Not enough that I know everything, or that I could pretend to understand what he feels. But enough.”

“Is it really bad?” Nicky felt his voice tremble, but couldn’t make himself hold back the question.

“It’s…” Kian’s voice trembled too. “I don’t know. I think most of it’s in his own head. Not what happened, that was real enough, but… what it does to him is really bad. He…” Kian ran a hand over his face, and for a moment Nicky thought he saw tears, but they were brushed away as quickly as they appeared. Kian looked at him, steady and frank. “I’ll protect him. Please believe me. I’ll try my hardest to make sure nothing hurts him.”

“I like protecting him.” Nicky admitted softly. “How fucked up is that?”

“Not really.” Kian smiled. “I quite like protecting him too.” Two spots of colour built high in his cheeks. “I love him. I can’t believe I lived three years without him.”

Nicky smiled. He supposed that was enough to get by on for now.

 

*

 

“So what did you do today?” Mark asked at the dinner table that night. The three of them were seated in slowly growing comfort around a couple of large pizzas and some garlic bread.

Nicky looked up, feeling his heart flutter when Mark looked so hopefully at him, and an unexpected flush of pride build in his chest.

He smiled.

“I enrolled in a hairstylist’s course.”


	10. Chapter 10

Nicky turned the model head in front of him, pursing his lips. He had homework. The last time he'd done homework... Well, if he was honest, even when he'd last had homework, he hadn't exactly  _ done  _ it. Had waited until the last minute, and copped the tsks from Mark when he tried to cobble together an essay at the last minute, until Mark ended up doing half of it for him while Nicky flapped his hands nervously over his housemate's shoulder.

“Alright?” Carolyn was sitting in one of the swivel chairs near the sink, waiting for an actual appointment that started in about fifteen minutes. Just an old lady with the usual ridiculous, overwrought bun, but at least it was a paying job. She'd mentioned maybe getting into doing a bit of waxing on the side, just for the extra business. As long as it wasn't bikini. You had to draw a line.

Nicky picked up his scissors. “Yeah, fine. Just a bob.” He was sat at the reception counter, the computer keyboard pushed aside to allow room for the head. He picked up his scissors. He'd done this before. Carolyn had let him do her hair a few times in the past, knowing she could always re-cut it if he made a botch of it.

“How's the course going?”

“Yeah, okay.” He was only four weeks in. There'd been a lot of sitting still, listening to the science of conditioner and stuff like that, but the practical stuff was fun. “It's a skill, isn't it?”

“Yeah, one day you can be as successful as me.” She turned the chair, putting her feet up on the counter.

“Or we could go in together, get a better location. Maybe change the name?”

“Carolyn and Nicky's?”

“I was thinking Nicky and Carolyn's.”  
  
“Getting a bit ahead of yourself, kiddo.” She snorted a laugh, pointing at his model. “Ahead. A head.” She caught his look and spun in her chair, laughing. “Forget it. Nobody appreciates a good joke these days.”

“Obviously not.” Nicky chuckled, pushing his own chair back, letting it roll until they were alongside each other. He swung around, kicking at her chair and pushing it away. She kicked back, and by the time the bell over the door jangled, they were into a full-blown recreation of Murderball. They both stood up at the same time, trying to look professional.

It was Mark and Kian.

Nicky sat back down. “Oh, it's just you.” He kicked at Carolyn again, then used his feet to scoot back behind the desk. “Look, I'm being a professional  _ and _ doing my homework. They say it's hard to study while you hold down a job, but I just think people aren't trying hard enough.”

“Your dedication is inspiring.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Carolyn.”

“Mark... and friend.” Carolyn waved, standing up. The bell rang again. “Hey, Mrs. V, you ready to be even more beautiful?”

Nicky booked in the customer, then turned back to Mark and Kian. She was well and truly in Carolyn's web now, being fussed over like a celebrity. They had awhile to talk, unless there was an unexpected walk-in there were no more appointments for another hour.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey.” Kian looked at the head on Nicky's desk. “How's the masterpiece coming?”

“It's coming. You wait until I get good. I'll give you cornrows.”

Mark laughed, nudging Kian lightly. “You'd look so sexy with cornrows.” He leant on the reception desk, looking down at Nicky. “What time do you knock off?”

“Dunno. Six?” Nicky looked at the appointment book in front of him. “Bit earlier if it stays like this. Why?”

“Shane's in town. Taking Nicole to the zoo. I thought we could all go out?”

Nicky shrugged. He had no plans, and Shane was certainly not the worst company. He hadn't had a night out in a while – when Kian was in town, he and Mark were usually tangled together like a cheap pair of headphones. When he wasn't, Mark was mooning. He'd gone out with Carolyn once, but her girlfriends terrified him. They all seemed to shriek excitedly about nothing at the same time, and he was pretty sure one of them had tried to touch him inappropriately.

“We gonna take the kid?”

“Yeah.” Kian shrugged. “Don't really have anyone to sit for her, being down here by himself. Thought maybe we could drive up to Malahide? She'll like the water and we can get some dinner or something. Make it an early night so she can go to bed. Honestly, she'll probably be asleep by eight anyway.”

Kian and Mark left not long after that, leaving Nicky with his own thoughts, the coos of Carolyn in the background, and a disembodied head in need of a shaggy bob.

 

*

 

Shane looked tired but happy when they picked him up, Nicole on his hip, her pudgy hands holding onto a stuffed penguin with a bright-eyed, almost religious fervour. She looked exactly like him. It was a little bit terrifying, especially when Kian pulled a face and she began to laugh. And then Shane began to laugh, and it was like some sort of horrifying cross-gender Mini-me situation.

Mark and Kian were in the front, so Nicky found himself wedged against the back window behind Mark, Nicole's plastic car seat separating he and Shane. It had taken ten bloody minutes to get the thing strapped in, so by the time they pulled out on the N1 it was almost dark. She was dozing in the seat, her grasp on the penguin loosening until Shane had to tuck it in beside her to stop her losing it.

“She's out.” Shane confirmed a few minutes later. They couldn't have the radio on in case they woke her. They also couldn't talk too loudly. “So how is everyone?”

Nicky wasn't sure he liked this 'being a grown-up' lark.

“Yeah, not bad.” Mark changed lanes, pursing his lips. Nicky could see his face in the rearview mirror. Blue eyes glanced up for a moment, catching his gaze in the reflection. “Nicky's doing his hairdressers training.”

“Kian said. How's that coming?” Nicky turned his eyes away from Mark to look at Shane, who was smiling at him over his daughter's head. She stirred in her seat for a moment, and he reached out to settle her, stroking hair back from her forehead. Nicky watched, impressed. He made fatherhood look downright easy.

“Yeah, okay. I dunno. Never really liked school, and the theory's boring. But I like the actual... you know. Hairdressing part.” He looked out the window. He'd been answering this question a lot lately, from pretty much everyone he knew, and he was getting the distinct feeling that most of them thought he was about five minutes from losing interest and giving it up. Except for Mark, obviously. Believing in Nicky was what Mark did.

“Cool. You'll have to give me a haircut when you get good enough.”

Nicky felt himself blush. “Might be a bit longer before you'd trust me with real hair.”

“Nah, you'll be alright.” Shane grinned, then surprised Nicky by reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I bet you're a natural.” Nicky grinned back, not sure how else to react. When he looked up, Mark was still watching him in the mirror. And the road, of course. Or at least, Nicky hoped he was watching the road.

“Yeah, well Mark's starting his teaching prac soon. That's a bit impressive.”

“It is.” Kian agreed. “Six more weeks.”

“Yeah.” The motorway was beginning to turn into residential areas now. Mark was sitting more upright, trying to pay attention. The sunset was glaring through the back window, making Kian's blonde hair look orange. “I don't know. Let's not talk about it. It's making me nervous.”

“You'll be fine.” Nicky said confidently. Believing in Mark was what he did. “You'll have all those teenage girls falling madly in love with you, and the boys will be saying 'Oh, that Mr Feehily, he's so cool. When I grow up I want to be just like him'." Mark laughed out loud at that. “And then they'll find out you're gay, and the boys will be madly in love with you too.”

“Oh, they're not finding out I'm gay,” Mark shook his head. “You want to try being a gay teacher looking for a job?”

“Yeah, but...” Nicky shrugged. “It's the twenty-first century, isn't it?”

“That's all well and good, but gay teachers don't get hired. Especially not at religious schools. I need to be able to get a job more than I need to be fabulous.” Shane laughed out loud, then shushed himself, shooting a concerned glance at Nicole, who had a thumb firmly lodged in her mouth. “It's not like I'll be snogging Kian on the desk, is it?”

“I dunno. Might drop by with lunch.” Kian's hand bridged the two front seats, squeezing Mark's shoulder lightly before staying there, comfortable. “Have to sneak behind the footy sheds. I never got to do that in highschool, so there's no time like the present.”

“I'm glad you're getting to live out your dreams, Kian.” Mark's voice was sarcastic, but his eyes sparkled. “Now everybody look for a place to park.”

It was dark when Nicky stepped out of the car, stretching. He'd been cramped up beside Nicole's seat for half an hour, and his legs were numb. He shook them out, feeling the pins and needles begin to set in. Nicole was lifted carefully out of her carseat, and looked like she was about to start crying for a minute before Shane kissed her nose and made a stupid face at her, then she was laughing, rubbing her eyes and allowing herself to be put into the stroller Kian struggled to unfold.

They decided on fish and chips and found an old wooden table and chairs near the water to sit at. Shane got Nicole settled, and Mark and Kian went to order the food, leaving the three of them to stare out at the water, the shoreline just illuminated by the streetlamps behind them.

Nicky leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, feeling the cool evening air brush at the place where his shirt lifted from his jeans. He shivered a little bit, but it was a nice cold, Spring finally starting to set in after a long, freezing winter.

“They seem happy.” Shane's voice broke the silence. Nicky didn't look around. The waves were breaking on the edge of the sand, stirring up little shells only a few metres from where they were sat.

“They are. It's good.”

“It is. I've got to admit, I'm a bit jealous.”

Nicky did look around at that. Shane was leant back against the table, his feet kicking at sand. Nicole was beginning to doze again, her penguin squashed in beside her.

“Were you and Kian...?”

“Oh, no.” Shane chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I mean, yes. Well, a long time ago I thought we might make something of it, but no. Then I had Nicole and well, we're better as friends. She's my world and he wasn't really ready for that sort of... No. We were never meant to be together.”

“Was it serious?” Shane and Kian were very close. It wasn't exactly a stretch to think of them together.

“Nah. It was years ago.” Shane smiled. “I can't say I regret it, but I wouldn't go back to it. It just gets lonely sometimes. I haven't really had much room in my life for other people since Nicole was born. She's kind of my world.” He reached down to tuck a blanket around her, protecting her from the cold. “Sometimes I think I don't know how to make room for other people. I take care of her. That's what I do.”

“I know.” Nicky puffed out a breath, turning back to watch a few tiny crabs skate along the shore, the waves just missing them. “I get that.” He kicked at a rock, watching it bounce down to the water. “I used to take care of Mark. Now Kian does that, and I don't know what to do with myself.”

“You still take care of him.” A hand landed on his shoulder. Nicky looked round. Shane had moved a little bit closer, his other hand still on the handle of the stroller. “I see the way he looks at you.” He kicked a rock too. It rolled down to join Nicky's. “Did you and he ever...”

Nicky shook his head. “Not really. We might have made out a few times, but nothing really came of it. I keep thinking maybe if I'd done something... something proper, then maybe things would be different. But you can't go back and change things, and he's happy with Kian. It was all I really wanted, for him to be happy. And if I can't do that for him...”

“Kian will take care of him, you know.”

“I guess you'd know.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Shane sat back. “Hey look, food.”

Kian and Mark were coming back down the beach, holding hands. Mark was holding a greasy-looking bundle of newspaper, Kian a plastic bag full of soft-drink cans and ice-creams.

They looked so happy it made Nicky want to cry.


	11. Chapter 11

Mark fell asleep on the train.

It was a little bit adorable, even if Nicky had to kick him occasionally to make him stop snoring.

The train was bloody packed. Easter break, and apparently the entirety of Dublin was headed north for the holiday. Or headed home. A lot of these people looked suspiciously like farmers for Nicky's liking. Sligo natives in the wild. He'd said as much to Mark when they'd got on the train, but it had earned a deathstare that was just dripping with hometown pride.

And now Mark was mumbling in his sleep, hands clenching on the armrests.

“Mark.” Nicky shook him awake lightly, not wanting to startle the younger man, but knowing the beginning of a nightmare when he saw one. A screaming fit on the train was probably not ideal. Not that Mark had had one in a few months, but Nicky still wanted to play it safe.

“Wha...?” Mark looked around, got his bearings, and then coughed, shaking himself, accidentally bumping the man hanging onto the rail next to them. “Oops, sorry.” The guy didn't even seem to notice. The fact that they'd even found seats was a miracle. Big blue eyes turned on Nicky, hazy with sleep. “Sorry, was I snoring?”

“No, you're fine.” Nicky put a hand on his shoulder. “You were mumbling a bit. Thought you might be having a nightmare.”

“Oh.” Mark rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I don't remember.” He yawned. “Where are we?”

“Still about an hour away. You want to go back to sleep? I can wake you in a bit.”

“Nah. I'll keep you company.”

“Will you? You're a saint.” Nicky teased, poking Marks arm. “You want to play cards or something?”

“No thanks.” Mark stood up for a second, stretching his arms, and Nicky watched about twenty pairs of eyes turn towards him, ready to make a play for his seat if it looked like was about to move, then looking disappointed when he sat back down. Nicky shuffled over, wanting to avoid being sat on. “Did I say anything?”

“Nah, just making noises.” Nicky ran a hand through Mark's hair. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I guess. I think I'm just stressed about starting my prac soon. I've not been sleeping so well.”

“You didn't say.”

“It's not a big deal. I'm just a bit tired.” But Mark was avoiding eye-contact. It might have been nothing, but Nicky didn't like it. He didn't have time to press the matter further, as the moment was broken by Nicky's phone beeping.

It was a text from Shane. They'd been talking more and more in the last couple of weeks since his visit, and Nicky had to admit that he was looking forward to seeing him. Shane was good company, even when he was just on the phone. He had a broad, inclusive sense of humour that always made Nicky feel welcome. There was nothing between them, Nicky didn't think so anyway, but with Mark so wrapped up in Kian it was nice to have someone to talk to.

“Shane?” Mark was doing that knowing look he did so well, the one that made Nicky feel like his skin was being stripped back to the bone.

“Yeah.” Nicky mumbled, opening the message. “Shane wants to know what time to pick us up.”

“Except he knows what time to pick us up, because he texted me an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well maybe he wanted to check. In case there were delays.”

“Maybe.” The laughter in Mark's voice made Nicky blush. “You gonna text back?” He rolled his eyes at the look Nicky gave him. “Come on, it's only polite.”

“I guess.” Nicky quickly sent off a message. Short and to the point. '1pm'. There. Nothing extra to be read into, just a standard exchange of information.

“Man of few words?”

“Shut up.” Nicky leaned his head back against the seat, staring up at the bag-racks. “You're so full of crap.”

“Come on, Nix. He likes you. You like him.”

“I like a lot of things. I like jammie dodgers. I'm not going to shack up with jammie dodgers.”

“Come on, you've had a long and intimate relationship with jammie dodgers for years now.”

“Yeah, but it's not exclusive. Sometimes I like a jaffa cake on the side. Anyway, the jammie dodgers have a kid.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Yeah, and.” Nicky agreed. “It's a non-issue, yeah? Nice bloke, like his company, bit cute. That's about it.”

“Fair enough.” Mark was still looking at him, though. Nicky looked back. Then it was Mark's phone to go off.

“Kian wants to know what time to pick us up.”

 

*

 

Shane and Kian picked them up at exactly 1:04pm, Kian just about leaping on Mark when they finally stepped off the train, his arms around Mark's neck while Mark did his best to reciprocate with his hands full of luggage. It was mostly Mark trying to chin Kian's shoulder, which was totally awkward. Nicky watched them, smiling as Shane pulled him in for a shy hug.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky smiled back, letting Shane take one of his bags. “Shall we get them off the platform before they eat each other?”

“Give them a minute.” Mark had put down his bags and was hugging Kian back, one hand sneaking conspicuously close to Kian's bum for somewhere this public. Shane hefted one of Nicky's suitcases. “Got enough stuff? It's only for two days.”

“I needed options.”

“It's an Easter barbecue. Honestly, everyone will be so drunk by the time the food comes out they won't care if you're wearing a sack.”

“I'd look great in a sack.”

“I agree.” Nicky caught Shane's gaze and smiled back. It was a good gaze. Warm and more welcoming than suggestive. Shane winked, then turned towards the happy couple, raising his voice. “Oi! You! Car!”

“Where's Nicole?” Nicky asked a few minutes later, sliding into the front seat. Mark and Kian were in the backseat together, not that they were able to get too close together with Nicole's car seat separating them. They were looking at each other like wolves stalking prey. Nicky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on Shane.

“Sprog's with my dad.” Shane explained. “She was too hyper, I could have never gotten her into the car. The whole family's over for the holidays, so there's plenty of kids to play with.”

“Oh, cool.” 

Shane pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Nicky looked out the window with casual interest – he'd never been to Sligo. It was exactly liked he'd expected. Rolling hills, lots of sheep, cute little houses. Like a calendar come to life. Very pretty, but he couldn't understand being here for more than a holiday. What the hell did you  _ do _ in Sligo? Running from swans could only be interesting for so long.

“I'll be at Mark's tomorrow for lunch though.”

“Cool.” Nicky said again. He looked over at Shane, the countryside already boring. “You don't have a thing with your family?”

“We're doing ours tonight. And Mark's family barbecues are sort of legendary. Social event of the season, that.”

“I've always suspected Sligo was the cultural capital of Ireland.” Nicky pulled a face.

“You've no idea.” Shane laughed. “There could be thirty, maybe forty people there.”  
  
“I don't know how you deal with the excitement. Will there be balloons? They're the latest thing.”

“Balloons are so last season.”

“Ha.” Nicky glanced behind him, catching Mark and Kian trying to kiss over the car seat. “You two need to be separated?”

They at least had the decency to blush, but continued holding hands for the rest of the trip. Nicky couldn't really blame then. It had been a few weeks since they'd seen each other, what with Mark finishing up his last bits of coursework before his prac. Not that it had made it any easier with Mark's sullen face slouching around the flat. Nicky at least had the distraction of work and training, but he did feel a bit guilty about leaving Mark alone for such long stretches, especially now that it seemed Mark hadn't been sleeping right.

Nicky felt his stomach do a tense barrel-roll. He'd tried to step away, give Mark and Kian their space, try not to obsess over Mark and protect him so much, but it was so difficult to let go. He wanted to hold Mark, make sure he didn't get so much as a papercut. And when Mark gave him one of those looks, those indefinably conflicted looks, all Nicky could think of was kissing him breathless.

The tyres crunched over gravel, shaking him from his thoughts. They were pulling up a driveway. Mark's house.

“Mam!” Mark was out the door before the car had stopped rolling, running towards a woman Nicky could only deduce was his mother. They hugged while Shane parked the car, letting the three of them out. Kian helped Nicky with the bags.

“So I'll see you tomorrow?” Shane asked, sticking his head out the open drivers-side window. Nicky nodded and waved, torn between watching Shane drive off and being polite and meeting Mark's mother. In the end, he did both

 

*

 

They stayed up late. Mark's dad produced a bottle of wine and a pack of cards, and the five of them sat around long after Mark's brothers had gone to bed, playing for matchsticks and drinking. Nicky liked Mark's parents, and the easy way they welcomed he and Kian. They didn't seemed remotely perturbed when Kian dropped an arm around Mark's shoulders and kissed his temple, though Nicky could sense Mark holding back from allowing much more public affection. Which was fair, Nicky guessed. He didn't exactly want to make out with someone in front of his own parents, no matter how accepting they might be.

When they finally retired, Nicky on the floor and Mark and Kian squashed into Mark's old bed, Nicky was knackered and not a little bit tipsy. He was just dozing off when he heard Kian giggle above him.

“Knock it off.” He hit them with his pillow, catching Mark's apologetic gaze before he snuggled himself down on the air mattress, too much wine pulling him relentlessly into sleep.

He was woken again some time later by Mark whimpering in his sleep.

Kian was shushing him, saying something Nicky couldn't hear. But Mark didn't want to be shushed, and cried out softly. Nicky could hear him shaking.

He sat up, not able to lie still and let Kian take this one alone, not when he could hear Mark in obvious distress.

“Okay?” He mouthed. Kian looked up, shrugging and stroking Mark's hair back from his forehead.

“He's not settling. He's not been this bad in a while.” Mark's hands fisted the sheet, rolling to face Kian's embrace. The blonde took him in his arms, stroking his back. “I don't know. He usually settles if I...”

“Yeah.” Nicky climbed up to sit on the bed, right below Mark's drawn-up feet. “He said he hasn't been sleeping well the last couple of weeks.” He put a hand on Mark's thigh, stroking gently. “Have you tried singing to him?”

“Didn't want to wake you up.”

Nicky shrugged. It was kind of a moot point now. Kian looked back down at Mark, starting to stroke his hair again. Nicky reached in closer to stroke Mark's shoulder. An arm swung violently at him and he had to recoil, seeing Kian jump back at the same time.

“Let him go.” Nicky urged. “He's just getting panicked.” Kian nodded, loosening his grip and pulling Mark gently with him, his arms giving the younger boy plenty of room to move. Mark was straight as a pin now, his jaw clenched so tight Nicky thought it might break. He slid in behind him, the three of them crammed together in the single bed. Nicky began to rub Mark's back, nodding at Kian when the other boy began to sing softly to Mark, stroking his hair and shoulders.

Mark began to calm eventually, settling into Kian's arms. Nicky smiled, locking eyes with Kian, seeing Mark's boyfriend's relieved grimace.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Kian whispered back. “Sorry.”  
  
“For what?”

“Dunno.” Kian was still running fingers through Mark's hair. “Not for him. Never him.” A kiss was pressed to dark, sweaty locks. “I just want to help him.”

“I know.” Nicky could see it, the helplessness he always felt when Mark was like this. “I'm sorry too.”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded, his hand finding Nicky's and squeezing. Nicky nodded, getting the hint. He wasn't needed any more. But when he went to get out, Mark whined in his sleep. He looked back at Kian, questioning. “Maybe stay for a bit?” Nicky nodded, closing his eyes, feeling his arse hanging off the side off a bed that wasn't even made for two people, let alone three.

Eventually he fell asleep. Kian didn't. When Nicky opened his eyes, the first shafts of light reflecting softly through the window, Kian's eyes were still wide open, red from lack of sleep.

Nicky went back to his bed on the floor.

Kian had this.


	12. Chapter 12

Mark didn't seem to remember anything when he woke, but he was twitchy and anxious, his gaze flicking distrustfully around the breakfast table whenever anyone spoke. His parents had left them to their own devices while they unfolded tables and set up the barbecue. The three of them were on balloon and streamer duty, or at least they would be when they had enough coffee in them to get mobile. Barry and Colin were supposed to be hiding Easter eggs around the garden. Nicky watched them run by the window, pelting each other with chocolate.

“You sleep okay? You look tired.” Mark was looking at Kian. Kian rubbed his eyes, glancing at Nicky.

“Fine.” He lied. Nicky looked down at his breakfast. “Bit squished, though. Be better with some coffee.”

They lapsed back into silence. Nicky pushed his Rice Krispies around the bowl, not all that hungry.

 

*

 

Shane showed up around ten to give them a hand with the decorations. Nicky didn't much like letting Mark out of his sight, but the happy couple were busy blowing up balloons, so he let Shane hold the ladder while Nicky climbed up and down, hanging streamers.

“You look knackered.” Shane observed. Nicky looked down at him. Shane's face was turned up toward him, a bundle of streamers clasped in his hand.

“Thanks?”

“You know what I mean. If it helps, your hair looks great.”

Nicky laughed, reaching down for another handful of streamers. “Thanks. I slept on Mark's floor last night. It was... invigorating.”

“I'm sure.” Nicky climbed back down, folding up the ladder. Shane grabbed an end, helping him move it over to the next spot. “Well, if it helps, you can sleep at mine next time?”

“I just might take you up on that. If I ever come back to Sligo.”

“You don't think you'll come back?”

“I dunno.” Nicky climbed up, feeling the ladder wobble for a moment before Shane steadied it. “I think I've seen all the sheep already.”

“There's other things here.” Nicky took another handful of streamers, feeling the way Shane brushed his hand. He let his hand linger over the touch for a moment. “But maybe I'll drive Kian down to see Mark one day. You can show me Dublin proper. Give me something to do while they're otherwise engaged.”

“I'd like that.” Nicky reached down for a bit of tape. Shane's hand brushed his again, and this time Nicky interlocked their fingers for a second. It was a nice feeling. He wasn't sure if he meant anything by it, but it had been a long time since he'd been touched, been able to extricate himself from Mark's problems long enough to allow himself to be touched.

Shane felt like a good person to do that with.

People started to arrive soon after that. Shane's family, with Nicole in tow, Kian's parents. Some neighbours Nicky didn't know. He left Shane talking to some old bloke with white hair and pants pulled up way too high, realising he hadn't seen Mark or Kian in a while. He almost didn't want to find them, half sure that they were off shagging somewhere. But he couldn't help looking. Not knowing where Mark was always made him anxious, though he knew if he was with Kian he would be okay.

Mark was sitting in the kitchen, alone, head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking.

“Mark?”

Mark jumped, hands fluttering for a moment, eyes wide.

“Jesus, Nicky, don't do that!”

Nicky sat down beside him, putting out a hand to take Mark's. It pulled away faster than he could grasp it, pulled into Mark's chest.

“What's wrong?”

“No, nothing. Nothing's wrong.”

“Mark.” Nicky looked around. They were alone in the room. “Mark, there's no-one here. You can talk to me.”

“No, there is.” Mark stood, pacing around the kitchen.

“There is what?”

“Nothing, I...”

“Is there someone here?” Nicky tried to put a hand on Mark's shoulder, stop his fevered pacing. Mark just put his head down, pulling away. Nicky watched him, his heart sinking. “Oh Jesus, Mark. Is there someone here?”

“No. NO. No. I just need to... to...” He was headed for the stairs, charging up them. Nicky followed close behind, realising he was probably panicking Mark more but not knowing what to do. Kian was just coming out of the upstairs bathroom when they went past.

“Marky?”

Nicky wasn't fast enough. The bedroom door slammed in his face. Kian was beside him in an instant, hammering on the door with his fists and calling Mark's name. All they could hear was sobbing.

“What the hell happened?”

“I don't know!” Nicky banged on the door himself, doubting it would work but having to do something. “I just came in and he was sitting at the kitchen table looking worse than I've ever...” He felt a shudder run through him and put a hand over his face, feeling helpless tears prick at his own eyes. “I think...” He swallowed hard, holding back tears in the face of Kian's accusing glare. “I think whoever... whoever hurt him. I think they're here.”

“What?!” Kian turned back toward the door. “Jesus. Mark!”

The crying was getting louder. Kian put his foot into the door. After a shocked moment, Nicky joined in.

The lock broke after the third kick, the door slamming back against the wall. Kian was already in Nicky's way, so he didn't see Mark straight away, just saw Kian cover him, then a pair of scissors in his hand. Then the blood.

“Oh Jesus.” Nicky whispered. He put his hand over his mouth, sure he was about to throw up. “Oh Jesus.” He said again, stumbling, grabbing the towel off the back of Mark's door by instinct, wrapping it around his friend's bleeding wrist before he could even register what he was doing. “Oh god, Mark.”

Kian was sobbing beside him. “What did you do?”

“No, I didn't...” Mark looked down at his wrist. “They weren't sharp enough.” He sounded dazed. Nicky pulled the towel away for a moment. Mark was right. There was blood, but it wasn't deep. A long, bleeding scratch. Kian handed the scissors to Nicky. They were just nail scissors, not sharp enough to do any massive damage in that short a time, though Mark had obviously tried. Nicky threw them on the floor, kicking them away as hard as he could. They disappeared under the wardrobe. He clamped the towel harder on Mark's bleeding wrist.

Kian got back up, closing the door. The lock was busted, but at least it gave them a bit of privacy. Kian was crying harder now. He sat on the bed next to Mark, clinging to him, kissing his face.

“You're okay.” He was murmuring over and over again. “You're okay, right? You're okay.”

Nicky looked at Mark, the terror he was feeling beginning to be replaced by a boiling mass of rage, now that he remembered what had kicked this whole thing off.

“Who was it, Mark?”  
  
Mark shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“Who the FUCK WAS IT?!” Nicky knew he was yelling. He didn't care. He didn't care if the whole world fucking heard it. Kian was staring at him, but not stopping him. No.

“Who was it, babe?” Kian whispered. “Please. Please, I can't... I can't keep doing this. I can't have you like this and not be able to fix it. God, please. I love you too much. Please.”

Mark turned in his embrace, his chin resting on Kian's shoulder. Nicky wanted to hold them both but he was too angry. Mark was murmuring something. Kian's eyes glazed over suddenly, then cleared in understanding. Kian stood back up, letting go of Mark. He looked at Nicky.

“Come with me.”

Nicky took one last look at Mark. Broken, terrified Mark. Then he followed Kian down the stairs.

Kian strode across the garden. A man was standing there, a perfectly average looking man of perfectly average height and perfectly average dress. He was smoking, and talking to a teenage boy Nicky didn't know.

“Hey.” Kian said. The man turned around. Kian punched him.

It happened so fast Nicky hadn't even reached them, but he saw the look in the teenager's eyes, the one that might have been grateful. Then Nicky was grabbing the guy's arms and yanking him back to his feet. Kian punched him again. Nicky heard his nose break.

Nicky dropped the limp body in his hands. There was silence around them, except for the sound of Kian shaking his bleeding knuckles. Nicky kicked the semi-conscious body on the ground as hard as he could. Felt something break. Did it again. He didn't know how many times. Shane had to pull him off.

Nicky backed away, looking up at the house.

Mark's face was in the window. But before he disappeared from view, Nicky saw him nod.


	13. Epilogue

The police had come pretty quickly after that. He and Kian had been detained for a bit, but were let go when the whole story came out. Mark had been surprisingly coherent, confirming what they already suspected, even as the paramedics were bandaging his bleeding wrists. They'd dealt with the unconscious gentleman in the garden first, of course, but once everything was explained he could see the paramedics were more interested in setting Kian's broken hand than a child molester's broken ribs and nose.

An old family friend. Everyone knew him, he worked at the garage.

It was less than a month later that other boys started to come forward. Boys with old scars from cigarette burns.

Mark didn't really react, just nodded every time another report about the case came on the telly, then turned off the set, curling up on the couch with a book. He postponed the start of his prac until the next semester. Nicky helped Kian move his things into their place. They'd discussed Mark moving in with Kian instead, but there was no way Mark could handle being in Sligo, and Kian wasn't about to leave his side.

Nicky half expected they'd be charged with assault, but nothing ever came of it. Kian figured the prick wasn't about to press charges. Mark didn't say much of anything, except to kiss Kian's bandaged hand and stare off into space.

Shane visited a lot, and it was two months later that Nicky was sitting in the kitchen with Nicole on his knee, talking some bollocks about nothing, when he realised he hadn't worried about Mark in almost ten minutes.

He let out a quiet laugh. Shane looked at him, a bemused smile crossing his face.

“What?”

Nicky shook his head, taking a biscuit off the table and putting it into Nicole's grasping hands. She laughed, beginning to suck on it with the few teeth she had.

“I don't know. Life's just mental.”

Shane reached out a hand, his fingers wrapping around Nicky's. Nicky squeezed back. He wasn't sure what this was with Shane. They'd kissed a few times, had a bit of a grope. He didn't feel the need to rush it. He felt like maybe Shane would be around for as long as he needed.

“It is a bit. I mean, a month ago you'd be freaking out if I handed you Nicole, and look at you now.”  
  
“Ah, she's all right.” Nicky admitted, bouncing the little girl to make her laugh. She obliged, chortling around a mouthful of biscuit. “Do you know when Mark and Kian are coming home?” They'd gone to dinner, Mark looking gorgeous and relaxed in a shirt Kian had bought him.

“Not for a while. I think Kian's got a bit of romantic night planned.”  
  
“So we should be out of here when they get back?”

“Just avert your eyes when they come in the door.” Shane stood up, taking Nicole in his arms. Nicky let her go reluctantly. “You want to move this to the couch?”

Nicky nodded, following. He had exams the next day, really should be getting himself to bed at a reasonable time, but with Shane here he couldn't seem to drag himself away. Shane put Nicole on the floor amongst her toys. Nicky used the distraction to snuggle up to him on the couch, putting his head on Shane's shoulder. An arm came around him, pulling him close. Soft lips brushed his.

Nicky deepened the kiss, feeling a tongue trace his bottom lip and trying not to moan.

They pulled apart. Shane's eyes were dark.

Nicky smiled and turned on the TV, settling into Shane's embrace.

They had time.


End file.
